Always
by Aerika S
Summary: Bridge between 'Secret Life of a Girl' and its upcoming sequel. Eries' perspective on the events of the series as she tries to protect her family, her country and her heart from harm.
1. The Princess and the Politicians

*** Though I have tried to write this so that knowledge of my previous fic 'The Secret Life of a Girl' isn't required, it is still very helpful pre-reading. I imagine most of you reading this probably have already done so, but those of you who haven't might wish to take the time (and lots of it) to go through it. Original characters and specific instances from that fic will be referenced, albeit with enough exposition (hopefully) that you can still follow along should you chose not to (but you really should). -- Management ***

"always…"  
  
I. The Princess and the Politicians  
  
  
It is said that in times of strife, great men search deep within their selves and, upon finding the reservoir of nobility and wisdom that brought them to their lofty stations, draw forth the solutions to all of life's ills. Given the quality of the man in question and the dubious nature of his ascent to Asturian high society, I was not surprised when Meiden Fassa looked within and dredged up the most self-serving, ludicrous solution I have ever heard posed.  
  
This council was convened for the purpose of finding a course of action in dealing with the tragedy that had only just taken place in the country of Fanelia. Typical of Asturian politics. A neighboring country is burned to the ground, its only monarch goes missing and its people are fleeing for their lives and we're holding a meeting to discuss what sort of meetings we should hold when we're really ready to tackle the problem. This is the third one since we first learned of the disaster. Perhaps Meiden, in his foolishness, thought he was only going along with the flow.  
  
But a royal marriage? Now? He was not stupid enough to suggest that I be the princess that marries his oldest son, but that's the only credit I'll give him. Father's being much more kind. He's actually listening to Meiden's rationale that Asturia needs to act strong and proceed as if we are unconcerned with any potential threats to our safety. I suspect a great deal of his patience comes from fond memories of his childhood when they were simply Grava Aston and his schoolmate -- not the king of one of Gaea's wealthiest nations and the merchant that accounts for nearly a quarter of that wealth. Meiden's wedding plans for my little sister do sound like a schoolboy scam.   
  
The others on the council are taking due note of every last reason. That does not surprise me either. The Asturian high council is an odd fraternity of old nobles, shrewd merchants and the type of military men who have spent their entire careers pushing imaginary armies across detailed maps without ever having picked up a sword. Collectively quite powerful, they nevertheless know that it is my father that issues all commands and that he does so with the assistance of his best friend and most trusted advisor. To rephrase it bluntly, sucking up to Meiden is a vital component of sucking up to the king.  
  
It was the reason why they first accepted me and my status as the first female in a hundred years to enter the council chambers for a purpose other than cleaning. I'd like to believe that my performance over the years has replaced nepotism as the reason for their respect. My agendas haven't always coincided with their dreams of military and financial conquest. Why waste money funding schools for commoners when you can build a new guest house for your mansion? Or better yet, find a new country to build a whole new mansion in? I've participated in many lively debates over the years.  
  
This one just seems silly to me. What baffles me is how seriously Father is taking it. This isn't the first time Meiden has tried to weasel his way into royalty by marriage. His original suggestion dates back years when he thought his son would be an ideal match for me. I think the sole logic behind that choice was that Dryden and I are the same age. It did not hold up to my much more logical rebuttals and the withering glare I used to deliver them. From what I know of the younger Fassa, he's an affable man skilled in the way of merchants but not enamored of them. The one thing I recall the most is a cutting humor whose edge he's not above turning on himself. In short, nothing like his father and the sort of man I could easily be friends with.  
  
But not a spouse to. I can't picture myself with him. I can't really picture myself with anyone. At least, not anymore…  
  
"So what do you think, Eries?" Father asks me.  
  
A good question. Out of dislike for Meiden, it's tempting to laugh and dismiss it entirely. Honestly though, ever since the specter of having the man as in-law in some form reared its head, I've been matching up Dryden with Millerna and coming up with favorable results. Something in their spirits… And if Dryden still holds the fairly liberal views of the teenager I last saw five years ago, he'll have much greater success accommodating Millerna's headstrong ways.  
  
"I think," I say in measured words, "that now is not a good time at all to be planning a wedding. We don't know who attacked Fanelia or where they might go next. Ignoring what happened won't protect us from it."  
  
"But we're not ignoring it, my princess," Meiden answers with patronizing patience. "We are simply showing that we do not care. Panicking will accomplish nothing but making us look weak. And you're right in that we don't know who attacked Fanelia but that also means we don't know why. For all we know, Fanelia brought the attack upon itself and we have nothing to worry about."  
  
"If we have nothing to worry about then why you in such a hurry -- "  
  
"Eries, please," Father interrupts. "I think your objections are more about seeing your sister married than the timing of the marriage. I know you weren't terribly enthusiastic when Marlene was betrothed to Freid."  
  
Grief tinges the mention of my sister's name. Knowing Father, I can't be sure if this is a deliberate attempt to keep me from declaring that he couldn't be more wrong or a genuine show of sorrow for his lost daughter. It's effective either way.   
  
Still, despite the fact I don't fully disagree with the marriage, I try to mount a defense for her. Millerna and I aren't on the best of terms; caving in wouldn't improve those relations. "She only turned fifteen two months ago. You can understand why I don't want you to rush into this. Promise me that you'll consult her about it at least."  
  
Father's brand of consultation is to intimidate someone until they agree with him. As his daughter, Millerna will be exempt from the worst of it, but even a girl as stubborn as she is can't hold out forever. Making him ask her won't change the outcome, but it will delay it. When Father has his mind set on something, that's really the most anyone can ask for and ultimately, it's all I'm after.  
  
Before he can acquiesce, the chamber doors open and a messenger interrupts him. Father's aversion of being interrupted is well known, almost as much as what happens to those doing the interrupting. This must be extremely important.  
  
The messenger does not even pause. "Your highness, more smoke is drifting in from the direction of the Fanelian border. From the accounts we've been given, it's coming from our own Fort Castelo."  
  
There's more. Conflicting reports from the fort's neighboring town of Caliper about when the fires started and what, if any, leviships were in the area at the time. The messengers only states one fact that is not in dispute -- no one has seen any survivors.  
  
***  
  
Fort Castelo. I was there once…less than a year ago. I was visiting a friend. And in an inebriated night of trying to turn amity into ardor, I began the process of burying that friendship. There were extenuating circumstances, but I've come to view my brief stay at the Castelo as the beginning of the end of my relationship with the commander of that fort.   
  
Now it looks as if everything has come to an end.  
  
I quit myself of the council chambers before the messenger finishes. His information is third hand at best; I want to go to those that actually observed the atrocity. The palace guard would have been the ones who first greeted the witnesses and would likely have retained them. Among the guards and Caliper villagers, I hope to find more concise news and perhaps the one person most capable of comforting me at the moment.  
  
I find him in the courtyard immediately. The blue and gold of the Caeli uniform distinguish him from common guards and the round, wire frame glasses distinguish him from his fellow Heavenly Knights. Alucier marks my arrival with a nod and an extended hand. I accept the invitation, but once I am beside him, he decides I should be elsewhere.

"You shouldn't hear the details," he says. Alucier's duty is to serve as my personal guard, a job he has been doing since I was fifteen. Over the six years he's served in that post, he's overseen taking care of my emotional wellbeing far more than my physical. If he thinks it's more important that he keep me ignorant of exactly what happened than to console me over what I already know, the events at the Castelo must be horrifying indeed.

But I can't leave. I already fear the worse. Confirming it won't harm me any more than letting myself be plagued with dread. Alucier is well acquainted with my stubbornness; he lets me stay, ordering me to stay close to him so that he may, at the very least, control which particulars I hear. 

The ones being relayed by a trio of hysterical farmers are especially gruesome. Working in the narrow strip of fertile land that lay in the swamps between Caliper and the Castelo, they were the first to hear the sounds of combat and smell the fire that consumed the fort. They were also the first ones to set eyes on the disaster that befell the outpost. They waited until the only noise they could hear was the flickering of the flames, but their caution did not spare them from viewing the grisly aftermath. For my sake, Alucier tries to calm them and redirect their words. In their shock, they can't stop. Alucier drags me away before I can ask them if there was a Caeli among the bodies that they are strangely compelled to describe.

"The other guards can handle this. You're my responsibility," Alucier states as he heads back into the palace, pulling me behind him.

"Stop it!" I command to small avail. He's stopped moving, but his grip remains firmly on my upper arm. "I have to know." 

Alucier only looks at me for several prolonged seconds. When he answers me, he has to turn away. "I think you can already guess."

"Guessing is not enough. I need to know for a fact." How I wish I truly felt as sure and bold as my speech. The farmers shook me. In their ranting, they took the abstract concept of death and gave it the brutal form of corpses strewn across the battlefield.

"But we won't know, not for a while. All we have so far is what the Caliper villagers have been able to tell us. And they weren't at the fort when this happened. They wouldn't know if anyone escaped, because they arrived long after any survivors would have fled." His grip on me lessens into a reassuring hold. "Yes, the survivors should have gone to Caliper or come to Palas by now, but there might be more going on than we realize. For all we know, they could be going after the people that did this. We'll just have to be patient and wait for more information."

Be patient. Wait. I've spent nearly a third of my life patiently waiting for Allen Schezar. Waiting for him to be finally through with the vestiges of his affair with Marlene. Waiting for him to outgrow the eleven year-old boy that was abandoned first by his father and then later sister and mother. Waiting for him to be able to accept that I love him.

Not long ago, my patience ran out. I walked away from him and the friendship we had forged because I could no longer live trying to fix his pain by making it my own. Now, I must wait again. And this time, it is with the knowledge that my last words to him were a decision to voluntarily become one more person gone from his life.

***

Alucier leaves me by my bedroom door. I would like for him to stay, but sorting out the events at the Castelo takes precedence. If I really need to talk to someone, all I have to do is knock on the next door down the hallway. Assuming Millerna will let me in, that is. I have tried reaching out to her, explaining my actions to her, but each attempt was hampered by her refusal to even consider my side and my inability to fully elucidate what my side is. I can list the reasons why Father and I put a stop to her medical studies. I can't so easily tell her how harmful her crush on Allen is without betraying not just my secrets, but Marlene's as well. Ultimately, the only justification I ever give her for either is that she is a princess and is bound to the obligations of the station.

It's a simple, plain explanation. Today though, complications have been added. Meiden Fassa's proposal alone would have been enough. Allen's possible… whatever has happened to Allen will be overwhelming for my little sister. I should be the one to tell her about both. 

It's unlikely she's heard it from anyone else already. She was at the stables all morning and, if true to her normal routine, went to her room directly after to clean off the accumulated dirt and sweat of hours spent riding horseback. I don't know which news to tell her first. You might be engaged or the man you want to be with might be dead. The latter makes the former easier, doesn't it?

I fancy my wit sharp, but the gallows humor is too biting. It's nothing but a cheap attempt to soften my own reaction anyway. I want to believe Alucier. I want to believe that the destruction of the Castelo wasn't as complete as the descriptions made it to be, but I can't forget the haunted eyes of the farmers as they expelled their tale.

Millerna wouldn't have to be so burdened. I could tell her parts of the story, enough so that she would not panic when she heard others talk about it, but not enough to draw a final conclusion until one is known for certain. I'll mention her perspective husband in the same manner. Nothing has been decided on that either. There's no point in worrying her about things that may not have happened or may never come to pass.

She opens her door slightly, watching me as if she's debating whether or not to let me in. I must win the internal contest because she swings the door wide and returns to the table where her lunch is cooling. She's still in her riding clothes but that's not unexpected. Since Father and I have 'taken over' her life, she's been wearing the casual attire around the palace with increasing frequency as one last stab at rebellion. The handmaidens have come up with all sorts of comments and predictions on the effect it will have on Asturian fashion, but, despite my own overly formal dress, it doesn't concern me much. Underneath my high collars and long skirts, I can even sort of appreciate the metaphorical freedom the short pants allow.

I start slowly. "Have you heard the commotion in the courtyard?"

"Not much," she answers. "I rode Liksha past Rampant this morning. I only just returned. I saw people gathered in the courtyard, but from what I heard, they were still talking about the fires in Fanelia. It seems like there's more smoke in the air today. Is that why everyone's upset again?"

"Yes, the smoke…" 

Naiveté is sometimes to be envied. Millerna's not stupid. Much as I disagreed with her medical lessons, a point I always had to concede was that she did well in them. It's more like she refuses to believe that anything overly bad will happen, not just to her but others around her. Despite having lost a mother and sister, a wishful thinking pervades that things will work out exactly as she wants them to. Born a princess, she is entitled but people will not so willingly fall into place as that. Merchants will have eligible sons. Fathers will make marital decisions on their daughters' behalves. Knights with questionable intentions won't always be around to rescue the beautiful princess.

"There's some talk that the smoke might be from one of our own forts near the border." I don't mention the Castelo by name. I've been offhanded enough in my delivery that Millerna doesn't ask for it. "The palace guard will check into it and take care of everything."

"They always do," Millerna says. In her sheltered experience, she knows no differently. "Is that all you wanted to tell me?"

No, not all. It's not even everything I should tell her about the Castelo. "I thought you should know. Some of our people were undoubtedly hurt. Such things are important for us to know."

Millerna, sensing another lecture from me about duty, begins picking apart her meal to avoid having to answer. Feigning distraction is a standard ploy for her. I'm tempted to play along with it, but if I'm going to criticize Millerna for having childish ways, I should start treating her as an adult and hope she will follow the lead. "Actually, sister, I haven't been entirely forthcoming with you. The accounts place the source of the smoke as Fort Castelo."

Her knife slips across the plate, knocking a piece of meat on to the table. It's a momentary lapse. She saying she's sure Allen is fine before the meat's sauce has had a chance to soak into the tablecloth. Her confidence could be reassuring if, as in everything concerning Allen Schezar, Millerna was truly aware of the circumstances. I won't argue with her though. I don't want to be an advocate on behalf of a terrible fate for someone who was once my dearest friend. Instead, I try to add to her optimism. "He is very resourceful."

Millerna sighs an agreement, either surprised I'm supporting her or doubting my ability to make an accurate assessment of Allen. She's not aware of how far Allen and I go back; I doubt he would have informed her considering how badly things ended between us and I haven't apprised her either. She's equally ignorant of Marlene's relations with him.

It's sad that such a gulf of secrets could open up between sisters and keep them removed from each other.

I know the rest of my news can only widen the gap.

"Oddly, though, most of the council business this morning was taken up by something only partially related to recent events." Millerna nibbles away at her vegetables. The only time she seems to like me less than when I'm telling her what to do is when I'm discussing the council. I wait until she's finished before going on. I don't wanting her choking on them or, as in a brief daydream that flits through my mind, throw them at me. "Meiden Fassa had a proposal for Father and Father has finally decided to take him up on it."

My choice on the vegetables was a good one. Her eyes go wide. She knows how much and how often Meiden has talked about marrying his son off to one of us. She also knows that at my age, I've become almost an old maid by some standards, skilled at deflecting any offers that come my way. That Father has at last given in a little over a month after she reached the marriageable age of fifteen is not insignificant to her either.

"You put a stop to it, didn't you?"

"I tried to," I say, hoping she will believe me. "I did have Father promise to ask you first. Nothing will be done without your consent." 

"Without my consent," she echoes sulkily. "Since when have the two of you ever considered what I want?"

I am determined to keep this from turning into the same fight that has come a dozen times before. "Father is asking now. Or he will be asking you shortly. I came here to tell you about this ahead of time so that you might be prepared for when he does. I didn't want him catching you off-guard. I wanted you to be able to think this through before having to give an answer."

"You know what my answer is." She shoves her plate at me. "Excuse me, but I have to clean up from my ride. Good day, Eries." The door to her bedroom closes sharply. In Millerna's anteroom, I'm left alone with the remains of her meal. I thought I would spare her by coming here. Instead, I think we both feel worse for it.

***

Night settles in quickly, but once here, it refuses to pass. I count the hours by the shifting of the shadows on the wall. Morning comes and I'm still counting. Deprived of sleep, the day goes by in a tired fog. Breakfast. Ignore Alucier's blatant attempts to cheer me. Council meeting. Ignore everyone. Lunch. Being ignored by Millerna. Dinner. Retiring early to my bedchambers to futilely make up for what was lost the previous night. I must nod off sometime in the late morning. When I wake, the sun has encroached all the way across the floor.

I grab the first dress I can find. I'm still working the buttons on the collar when I reach the courtyard. I'm smoothing over my silver hair when I turn the corner to go down the hallway the ends at the council room. With everything going on, oversleeping through what is probably the entire meeting, isn't the best thing I could have done.

As feared, council members are already leaving the room before I can enter it. They brush past, each one intent on watching their footsteps and devoid of their usual prattle. No one even comments on my absence. No one comments on anything.

Father and Meiden Fassa are still inside. They have company, but it is no councilman. A tall figure stands at the head of the table, facing away from me. Father registers my arrival with a look that I have never seen before.

The man turns to see what has caused the King of Asturia to react so strangely. The edges of the dark cloak that he has bound himself in whisper across the floor with his movement. He's a handsome man, or rather, he would be if he allowed himself that luxury. There's an air to him far chillier and distant than anything I've ever been able to affect. He isn't staring, but I still find it hard to meet his unnaturally red eyes. 

"Strategos Folken of Zaibach," Father announces. "This is my daughter, the princess Eries Aria."

The man nods curtly. I give a more proper greeting though I know it is likely wasted. Inane pleasantries are obviously of no importance to this Strategos Folken. His name bothers me; I know I've heard it before, but I can't match the eerily composed man before me to it.

It's not my first concern anyway. "Father, I'm sorry that I missed this morning's meeting -- "

"Eries, Eries," Father laughs unexpectedly. "How many times do I have to tell you? Just because I let you sit in on the occasional meeting in which one of your little causes is discussed, doesn't mean that you're actually a member of the council." He adds a few hearty chuckles to emphasize how silly I am.

I assume it's for our visitor's benefit, for surely I'm not finding it amusing. Meiden's up and out of his seat, offering to escort him all over Palas ahead of any reaction I can vocalize. Father and his friend do make a good team. There's something in the way the merchant's fawning over the Strategos that suggests I should hold my tongue until the two of them are well out of the room.

It's difficult given what I want to say. Father watches me with a lesser version of that odd expression he had while we listen to the receding footsteps.

Somehow, my father's quicker than I am. "The Strategos came here to express his regrets for an incident that took place at Fort Castelo."

"The Castelo?! Zaibach? Did he know if -- "

Father puts up his hand to stop me. I'm verging on hysterical rambling and the both of us know my primary interest isn't Zaibach or its representative. "He explained to me that a fugitive was being harbored at the fort. Commander Schezar refused to turn him over, in clear violation of the treaty between our countries. It was Zaibach's intent to avoid a violent confrontation, but the class of our soldiers at that fort isn't one well trained in diplomacy. There was some sort of misunderstanding about Zaibach's demand for extradition and well, we know what happened after."

"You don't really believe that's what happened? Allen would never have let the situation degenerate so badly." Father may not think much of Allen because of his involvement with me, but as a soldier, Allen has never given him a reason to doubt his capability. 

"I am simply repeating what the Strategos told me," Father says in a low timbre.

So he doesn't believe it. But he has decided to go along with it. I truly wish I hadn't missed that council meeting. And there is one thing I haven't had clarified. "Did the Strategos tell you of any survivors? Surely he would know if the commander of the fort they attacked had fallen."

He's torn between his love for me and his dislike of Allen. Apparently, the former is stronger. "He made no mention of Schezar. Given his status as the commander, I think the omission is significant. Zaibach came to us in the interest of _full disclosure_." He slurs the phrase. This is tearing at him more than he will ever openly admit to me.

"You believe that he is alive, then?"

"Believe what you want to believe, Eries. I'm curious as to why he hasn't reported back to Palas yet, but for some reason, Zaibach also took its time getting here." To himself he adds, "There's more going on here than that man let on."

I would like to know what it is myself. I'm more hopeful than I've been the past few days, but this exchange with Father has alarmed me. The look on his face, his talk about me not being on the council¼

"Father, what you said earlier -- that's I'm not a member of the council?"

"You aren't, Eries. Not anymore." He pushes away from the table and gets up to leave. This is not up for debate.

I don't fold that easily, though. "But you were just saying that for the Strategos, weren't you? You can't be serious?"

He is. Completely. His posture is stone as he walks out the council chamber. Pausing at the door, he gives the only explanation he really needs to give. "There are things happening in Asturia -- in Gaea -- that I would not have touch my daughters."

I understand what that unfamiliar look was now. For the first time in my life, my father is afraid.

***

I go looking for Millerna to tell her what I'm choosing to believe is positive news about Allen. She's long gone. Her handmaidens tell me she was once again going to the stables. That horse of hers probably has covered enough distance to circle the whole of Gaea over the past week. I can only imagine where she's gotten to and how long it will take for her to come back.

If she's in the area, I have the resources to find her. The Caeli that serves as captain of the royal guard is a friend of mine. He should be on duty now in the guard tower -- should being the word to emphasize. Revius owes his current position to his Caeli uniform, which he won through his skill with a sword, not his dedication to duty. Distractions, generally of a female persuasion, have been known to draw him from his post.

The tower is at the edge of the palace grounds. It's not much of a walk, but the one up the winding staircase to the top of it is. Near the top, I look down to see how high up I've climbed. Looking back up, I see Revius leaning over the railing, waiting for me. 

He's unfazed by presence. "I was going to go look for you, but I should have known you'd come here instead," he says, grinning at me with his usual jaunty smile. "It is his ship, after all."

I shake my head in confusion. I'm accustomed to friendly teasing from Revious, but he's refrained from it recently because of what happened at the Castelo. 

It dawns on me who the 'his' of 'his ship' refers to. "Allen's ship?"

"I spotted a leviship coming in over Rampant. As much as I've seen the thing, I knew it on sight. It's the Crusade."

Named for an Allen Crusade Schezar born long before the current eighth one, the vessel has made many trips to the capital city from the swamplands after Allen's transfer there two years ago. I used to greet its arrival with a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. I was always happy to see Allen, but not always ready to let him know how deep that happiness ran.

Similar emotions color this particular arrival. Relief has flooded through me that I will be able to see for myself that he is all right. There's a dread though, tucking itself away in the corners of that relief, that the good feelings I have are irrelevant.

To him, and to myself.

***

Author's Notes -- Starting from scratch is hard. After spitting out 100,000+ words, you'd think a brand new story would come right out. Truth is, I started this before I wrote the extra special appendix to 'Girl', got halfway through it and slammed into a wall. I wasn't able to get started again until that appendix was done. Maybe I just had to get the whole Eries x Alucier thing out of my system. I recommend that you all do the same. As much as I love the guy, it ain't gonna happen. Though an Eries/Allen/Alucier/Sita love rectangle would do the series proud… Gah, I should stop theorizing.

Gratuitous plugs -- Visit my Eries shrine at:www.geocities.com/eriesariaaston

or visit my in the process of remodeling Allen shrine at:www.geocities.com/aerikas

Next up: My Dinner with Allen


	2. My Dinner with Allen

***Some portions of dialogue have been quoted from the subtitled version of the series on the DVD set distributed by Bandai***

"always"

II. My Dinner with Allen

It's a motley group that disembarks from the Crusade. Revius and I watch them at the dockyard through alternating turns with the spyglass. I feel a bit improper observing them like this but from the looks of the crew, they're the sort of men that are probably used to being watched. I recognize one or two of them from my visit to the Castelo. There's Gaddes, Allen's second in command, and the one that challenged Alucier to a lengthy game of darts that I never did learn the outcome of. I have forgotten his name but the wide, jagged scar that runs across his bald scalp is much more memorable.

There are four people whom I don't know at all. From the looks of them, they can't be Asturian soldiers. The first is a stocky old man who sidles off to the area of the leviship dockyard where all cargo is kept the second he's off the Crusade. Then, there's a boy in a loose red shirt with a sword strapped at his side. He keeps one hand on it while his other arm is occupied by a bundle of orange and pink that with an adjustment of the spyglass' lens, I'm able to determine is a small catgirl. Revius bets me that she won't let go the entire time they're at the docks. I win on a technicality.

The last one is intriguing. It's a girl around Millerna's age, but that was hard to tell because of her extremely short brown hair. Viewing her over the distance, the skirt of her strange outfit (whose scandalous length elicits a rude joke from Revius) is the only clue to her gender.

As is traditional, the captain of the ship is the last to leave it -- the captain and his owl. Natal springs off Allen's arm to stretch her wings after being cooped up in a leviship. The way she's soaring, it must have been a long trip for her.

For all of them. They stretch and point out to the ocean and down into Palas below. They look relieved to be here. With only a handful here out of the large number of soldiers that were stationed at the ruined fort, it's to be expected.

Revius taps me on the shoulder to indicate I'm taking too long with my turn. I ask for a few more seconds. I've focused in on Allen. I know him so well, I'm usually able to read his mood -- his real mood, not the façade of the perfect knight he always puts forth -- if I can get a good enough look at him. But he's too far away and there's a pink blur moving in from the edge of my view. Allen will never show his true face now.

I'm not aware of uttering a curse, but Revius laughs, "Princess! Such language!" I gladly forfeit the spyglass. Revius takes one look and understands. "Ah, your sister, Her Pinkness, has arrived. I guess I wasn't the only one who saw the Crusade come in."

I should berate him for referring to Millerna so discourteously. He's my friend; I permit such familiarity. My family is another matter. Overly pink wardrobe or not, spoiled brat that I complain to him about or not, Millerna warrants more respect than his derogatory nickname gives her. I know he does it because he's territorially protective of me. Revius doesn't like it that my little sister has staked a claim on a man that he deemed to be already mine quite some time ago. 

It's sweet, but he really shouldn't --

"How can she not notice how ticked Red Shirt looks?" he narrates. "And there goes Allen. He took her horse. I guess he's headed for the palace. Now she's talking to Skirt. Skirt looks kind of angry too. Whoa! Catgirl is really angry. She just stomped on Skirt's foot."

Revius relates more antics between 'Skirt' and 'Catgirl' but I'd rather he train his eye on the road that runs down from the dockyard into Palas. I don't want to necessarily see Allen. Knowing that he's all right is enough for me. What I want is to hear his account of Zaibach's activities at the Castelo. The Strategos' version was pure fiction, I'm sure of it. Father was too. His agreement with the man was merely a political performance.

Zaibach representatives have not left the city though. When Allen gives his report, will it be a tale of injustice delivered to the proud, righteous king, or just another part of the show?

***

Millerna returns to the palace before I do. The crew of the Crusade has been left behind to fend for themselves, but she brought back the three of the outsiders with her. 'Skirt' is in theory a handmaiden called Hitomi, but she couldn't be more unfamiliar with palace life. She wanders around, awestruck and lost. Again and again, she has to weave out of the way of the constant flow of people through the halls and apologize if she isn't fast enough. The real handmaidens offer her food and a change of clothing only to have the girl act surprised that they're asking *_her*._ She's not fooling anyone. 

'Red Shirt' has fooled me considerably. Millerna introduces him to me as Van Fanel, the King of Fanelia, a status not suggested by his clothing or stooped posture. I give him the same greeting I gave the Strategos. I receive the same results. I would offer him my condolences for the razing of his country, but Millerna should have already done it and the boy isn't of any mood to hear more about how badly he's suffered. 

'Catgirl' is named Merle. She sniffs in my direction, but I'm substantially less amusing to her than her 'Van-sama'. She's still latched to his arm, but up close, I'm able to tell it's a gesture of both affection and protectiveness. After a few mumbled comments and multiple glares at that Hitomi girl, it becomes clear what she has deemed to be the most important threat to protect him from.

Soon, Millerna declares that a proper lunch must be prepared for her and her guests. Finding a suitable dress for Hitomi becomes a high priority, contrary to the girl's earlier refusals. She continues to voice a polite objection. Millerna doesn't listen to it, being busy with a handmaiden describing the exact gown that would be just the thing for her. Right as she leaves, Millerna makes sure to let me know she won't be available this afternoon because Allen has promised to take her to the shopping district. 

"Maybe she'll buy herself a nice clue," Alucier suggests as he returns from the errand I gave to him. The first thing I did when Revius and I arrived back was to locate him and send him off to find out what he could of Allen's address to my father.

"I could give her one for free."

"Yes, I imagine you've built up a whole stockpile of unused ones about Allen over the years." 

Part of Alucier's definition of being an older brother figure includes merciless repartee. He generally knows to stop before he goes too far but sometimes he needs something to jog his memory. Something like a stern look of disapproval or, if there weren't any witnesses around, a swift kick to the shins.

Knowing that he's right and that it's the only reason I'm so annoyed, he quickly switches the subject back to his mission. There's not much to report. He ran into Allen outside of the room Father uses to receive his subjects but as usual, Allen was less than forthcoming. "Of course, your father had kept him waiting there for a half-hour despite the urgency of the situation."

"He's the king. We all must follow his time. Still, he's been waiting to hear what really happened at the Castelo. I don't know why he would put Allen off."

The explanation Alucier suggests is probable, but not agreeable. "I left when a page announced the king was ready, but when I passed by the rear entrance to the room on my way back here, he was still outside. He had a 'friend' who was keeping him. A tall guy in a dark cape dripping mood all through the hall."

"Zaibach's Strategos," I conclude. 

So Father's performance will continue. I can't fault him for erring on the side of caution. I can't dismiss the feeling that he is in error all the same. But he is the ruler of this country and Asturia has always prospered under his hand. I should trust Father's rationale no matter how much I mistrust Zaibach and its emissary.

I should, but I can't.

***

It's petty, but nonetheless I smile while watching a princess, a king, a catgirl and a handmaiden leave for the bazaar without a Knight of Caeli to accompany them. The gods know I need something to improve my mood. Another cloud lifts when I notice the Strategos finally exiting palace grounds not long after my Millerna's entourage. Having a bedroom with a window that overlooks the part of the courtyard that is the starting and stopping point for all visiting palace traffic has been advantageous many times over the years.

So now I'm left alone in that advantageous bedroom with nothing to do save planning on how to spend tomorrow morning since Father has decided that it won't be spent in a council meeting. Considering how much of my six-year tenure was taken up with circular debates and wrangling over the tiniest little trivialities, I should be relieved to be free of the whole thing. I could even sleep in late tomorrow, this time on purpose. 

But I won't be able to sleep. I know that I'll just be lying on the bed exactly as I am now wondering what I'm going to do and missing those stupid politics and wanting to be a part of them. 

Even if the council did nothing but capitulate to Zaibach, at least then I would know what we would be capitulating to. They burned down one of our forts. They admitted it, but lied about circumstances. I don't have proof that they lied yet, but it's a safe assumption. I cannot believe Allen would handle a minor turnover of a wanted criminal as badly as the Strategos claimed. Who were they trying to extradite anyway? What was the king of Fanelia doing with Allen? Was he the one they wanted? Was the destruction of Fanelia somehow tied to the destruction of the Castelo? 

My conspiracy theory is almost worked out when I'm interrupted by a visitor. A shy visitor. The person knocks but does not enter even after I've called out for them to do so. I go to the door wondering who would what to see me but not know me well enough to simply come in without being let in.

It turns out not to be a matter of shyness, but of reluctance. It also explains why Millerna did not get her dream afternoon of roaming through the shopping district while on the arm of her love.

"Allen." I am as neutral as I am able to be after being taken surprised by his tall figure standing outside my room. This is the first time he's sought me out since our fight a few months ago. I need to know what he's come here to say without influencing it with my own conflicting emotions.

"I must speak with you, Princess," he says seriously. 

Suddenly, I don't think this has anything to with the two of us. I can tell by the intense focus of those sapphire eyes that I should have greeted him as 'Sir Knight' and not by his first name. He is here because of business.

Being right isn't always a blessing. He launches into the true account of the fall of the Castelo that I have been eager to hear as soon as I give him permission to speak. My theory solidifies into fact. Zaibach was indeed responsible for Fanelia. He finishes by inadvertently rubbing salt into a fresh wound. "Your father is under the influence of bad counsel," he says, employing an old euphemism for 'the king has lost his mind'. "But I know that he listens to you and the high council does as well. If you could -- "

"I can't do anything. Father does what he believes he needs to do and whatever sway I did hold with the council no longer exists since I no longer have a seat on it."

"You removed yourself from the council?" he asks skeptically.

"Of course I didn't," I snap. How could he think I would do such a thing? "Father made that decision."

"He wouldn't listen to any of your arguments to stay?"

If I recall correctly, I only made one feeble protest that was cut short by Father's pronouncement that he was doing it for my safety. I understand his motivation. I respect it. I don't know how, or even why, I should explain it to Allen though. "He had reasons and, as king, it was his choice."

"You just accepted it." It's like he's dancing around an accusation.

"I had to. I didn't like it and I still don't but it's futile to fight Father when his mind is set."

"And it was easier for you to walk away."

So much for dancing. I highly doubt that last remark was about the council. But if he wishes to veil his words¼ "Father did it to protect me. As someone who cares about me, he removes me from things that could prove harmful."

"When did the council become so harmful?"

"This situation with Zaibach is difficult, not to mention dangerous. Father's playing along with that Strategos for now, but only because the welfare of Asturia is at stake."

"Zaibach destroys Fanelia but we're going to ignore that because it serves our own interests."

"What happened in Fanelia was a tragedy, but we cannot compensate for it by putting ourselves at risk. Would you rather have both countries fall to ruin?"

"We have a treaty with Fanelia. I would think it's our responsibility to come to its aid."

"Fanelia is not the only country with which we have a treaty. It is not the only country that we should concern ourselves with. And above all, Asturia needs to take care of itself if it wants to remain strong."

He looks as if he has a response in mind but doesn't care to share it. I suspect that I should be grateful for that. Without anything left to say, Allen bids me farewell in the manner demanded by chivalry. Respectful. Dutiful. But still carrying an undertone of¼ disappointment?

He came here expecting political aid for his newfound cause. Protecting a dispossessed king and his young female associates would be a mission Allen would take on with zeal. The valiant knight watching over lord and ladies. A noble role and distraction for one who has chosen to live in images rather than the realities they poorly reflect.

My own feelings tend more towards anger. No, I must be honest with myself. I *am* angry. Allen did come to me, but it was as a servant making a plea to his master, not as a friend requesting a favor. If he had known I'm not on the council anymore, would he even have come at all? Am I only worthy of his attention when I have something he needs? Does he have so little faith in our former friendship?

Our friendship¼ I was his counselor, his confidant. I helped him reclaim his family's estate after years of his neglect. I stood aside for Marlene and then carried Allen through all the disastrous consequences. I did all those things out of choice. I wanted to do them. I wanted to stand by Allen in whatever way I could. 

But Allen needed those things. He needed for me to be there. I was so happy to comply, I never realized that perhaps it was only my presence, not my actual person, that he relied on and craved. Once I took away that presence, he was left to fend for himself and, finding he was able to survive without the crutch it provided, decided he no longer needed the woman underneath it.

I'm doing it again. I ended things with Allen to be free of his pain and the pain that came from constantly defining myself in relation to him. Yet I return to it over and over, constantly tracing the lines of our past and coming up with a dark, meaningless blur instead of the clear picture I'm seeking.

I am the one thing from which Allen Schezar has proved capable of moving on. From now on, I must do no less.

***

In honor of the Fanelian king, Father has decided to throw an official, but small dinner. I gather the small part is to show proper decorum to our guest without flaunting that the guest is here to Zaibach. The dinner is held in the royal dining room, called such because it's huge and lavish, not because we royals like to eat in it. As a child, I used to be afraid that the high-backed chairs that ring the dining table might fall over and crush me. It wasn't completely irrational. The damned things reach halfway to the ceiling and could probably take out a wall if they were ever to fall. Marlene deliberately wriggling about in her chair whenever I passed near her wasn't helpful either. 

One playful older sister wouldn't be able to disturb them. Because of the back, the chairs are weighted heavily in the legs and seat. Because of how they're weighted, the chairs have a comfort level equivalent to having a stiff board pressed sharply against your back. Between the chairs and my earlier visit from Allen, 'surly' would be a good choice for describing my mood.

This dinner is for a king though and my attendance is mandatory. I'm sure some of the gathered nobles would gladly trade places. They're only here long enough to express their admiration of the machine that's been placed at the head of the room like Gaea's largest and most unusual centerpiece. It's the Fanelian king's personal guymelef. He stands off to the side, dressed in the same casual garb he arrived in and apart from the men who praise his possession so emptily. His catgirl, who is quickly earning herself the adjective ever-present, hangs off his arm, twitching her tail irritably while the nobles discuss some fight that Fanel participated in an hour earlier.

It doesn't sound as if the fight were particularly fair, but the young king won anyway. I don't care enough about the art of fighting to pay attention to the details. The guymelef is called Escaflowne and from what I recall of Fanelian tradition, it's either named after a god or is supposed to be a god itself. The nobles would probably know. They're tossing around unfamiliar phrases like 'Ispano' and 'drag energist'. It reminds of Alucier and Revius' deliberate attempts to confuse me whenever they talk about guymelefs and swords and other 'manly' things.

They would love to be here. Neither one is much of pilot but the mystical aura of a rare melef would set them to chattering about the subject anyway. Unfortunately, while the Caeli are Asturia's twelve most revered knights, they don't pull enough influence to be seated at this table. There is one exception. Because of his connection to the guest of honor, Allen has been permitted to join the meal. When he enters the room, he takes the only unoccupied chair that isn't beside or directly across from me. Father takes the time from his conversation with Meiden Fassa to make a short grunt of disapproval. 

The fun's already begun and the final two attendees haven't even arrived yet. Millerna likes to be fashionably late. She must be imposing the same standard on that Hitomi girl. Once they do arrive, Millerna rushes to take the chair across from Allen. She missed this afternoon with him; she'll not let him out of her sight now.

Everyone's seated, but the men can't be torn away from their talk of Escaflowne. The best way to hide it, how beautiful it is. Meiden tries to flatter me and my sister by saying its beauty is nothing compared to ours. Prettier than a hulking piece of white metal with a giant red jewel in its chest? I would certainly hope so. 

Even though he is the one it concerns the most, Fanel leaves the security of his mecha up to my father to decide and stalks out of the room to go stare out the windows that line the hall. The catgirl chases after him. I empathize with their desire to escape.

Father doesn't let the fact that the reason for the whole dinner just left without eating one bite of food stop him. Using Meiden's earlier comments about beauty as a set up, he takes a spiteful jab at his least favorite servant. "It's said that being too beautiful is a sin, Allen."

I can't make out Allen's subservient mumbling but I do catch the look he gives me. What lovely timing for him to acknowledge my existence.

No one else notices. Father digs into his meal and everybody else pokes at theirs. We're having fish tonight, prepared by the kitchen's best chef. Millerna though, seems to be under the impression that Allen is the main course with the way she's salivating over him. I should tie a bib around her neck. Or a length of rope¼

I believe Father would lend me a piece if he had one. He's casting glares at Allen, then Millerna, then back to Allen. Hitomi follows a similar pattern but with a slightly different execution and a vastly different motivation. Allen has yet one more crush to add to an already astronomical total. 

Lust is an equal opportunity emotion. Meiden begins asking obvious questions about Hitomi, causing her to be visibly on edge. I saw the way he looked at her when she came into the room. She's wearing one of my sister's old dresses, pink but not tight or low cut enough to be suitable for Millerna to wear around Allen. For some reason, half of the bottom is missing and has been hastily hemmed. Whatever it is with that girl and short skirts certainly agrees with the very married patriarch of the Fassa clan.

Millerna plays cute and professes to know all about the alleged handmaiden. It turns out she knows nothing. Allen brings it all to an ungraceful halt by declaring it's inappropriate to discuss a girl of such low status at such a high dinner. I don't blame Hitomi when she drains her entire glass of vino in one gulp.

With the silly machine and the sillier handmaiden fully discussed, Millerna turns the conversation back to herself. She pouts suggestively at Allen, claiming to be quite upset that she didn't get to spend the afternoon with him. Hitomi, Father and I take deep drafts of vino in unison.

She makes Allen promise to visit her in her quarters and then I'm the one using a set-up.

"Allen, Millerna has been betrothed to Lord Meiden's eldest son."

"Really!?!" Hitomi screeches from across the table. I think she would have applauded if she hadn't had a glass in her hand. She settles back into her chair with a lopsided grin clearly communicating her supreme pleasure with the news.

If only everyone could be so happy¼ Millerna's horrified; she tries to spit out some kind of reproach of me, but 'sister!' is the most offensive thing she can muster.

I couldn't care less. With an insincerity that borders on gleeful, I add, "Oh, I'm sorry. Wasn't that what you were going to talk to him about?"

Everyone files the proper reactions. Allen congratulates Millerna. Millerna protests that she hasn't agreed to it yet. My father and Meiden go on to make jokes about the would-be groom. 

Hitomi takes another swig of alcohol and giggles quietly to herself. I sip steadily from my own glass and tip it subtlety in her direction when it's empty. Among the palace staff, I've earned the nickname 'Ice Princess'. There are benefits to living up it.

Dinner peters out slowly. Father and Meiden monopolize most of the talk with the hundredth review of a story from their teenage years. A chastised Millerna is forced to leer at Allen surreptitiously (or what she believes to be surreptitiously and others would call overtly with a tiny hint of restraint). Allen doesn't say anything more at all except to thank the servers when they make one of their many replenishments of wine. I don't say anything more period.

The evening's final moment is Hitomi's. Raising her glass in an imaginary toast, she looks around the table at each of her fellow diners, emits a singular chirp of laugher and slumps over in chair, the ample amounts of vino that she imbibed finally taking their toll.

All and all, I find it to be a rather appropriate ending.

***

Reflecting on the meal, I feel there's a chance I might have gone too far in my insensitive announcement of Millerna's engagement. Just a small chance. It was brusque, without question, but tact isn't always the best way to convey things that absolutely must be said. Millerna never would have said anything to Allen and Allen would have been grateful not to hear it. 

He handled the news well enough, better than he did the news when Marlene was engaged to the Duke of Freid. But Father wasn't sitting a few feet away from him then. Slipping out of the room to begin an extended period of absence from duty to drink and brood copiously wasn't an option. Father wasn't aware of Allen and Marlene's relationship either. Anyone that's gotten within hearing range of Millerna over the past year knows exactly how she feels about her precious golden knight.

This is so frustrating. I make a vow mid-afternoon to quit worrying about Allen in any context and I can't even make it through the day without breaking it. He is not my responsibility anymore. He never really was. 

It would be easier to forget him if I couldn't hear him coming up the stairway behind me. He tried reviving Hitomi after she passed out but couldn't rouse her. An entire bottle of vino will do that to a girl who hasn't tasted it before. It would do that to a grown man with a fondness for drink. Millerna suggested letting the handmaidens take care of her and hadn't liked it when Allen volunteered to look after her personally. She probably went off to sulk because she wasn't the maiden fair being attended to by the gallant knight. Either that or she's biding her time, waiting for Allen to be through with the Hitomi girl and expecting him to come to her room promptly afterwards. Millerna won't let Allen back out of a second promise.

It looks like Allen's going to be at the palace for awhile. Starting his stay with a late night visit to Millerna would not be good. A calm, rationale reminder of why he's so interested in her to begin with might be in order. He's still carrying his charge though. I'll wait until he's put her to bed to confront him. It'll give me time to gather my thoughts into a speech that won't end in a shouting match.

I tuck myself in an alcove and watch him go past. I could have sat in front of the door and all he would have done is step over me. He's studying the girl, and I doubt it's to watch for any signs of her stirring. He continues even after he's gently set her down and placed the covers over her. 

Of course. A cute young thing who admires him utterly and blatantly and needs his protection. How perfect for him. It's little wonder that Millerna was so upset; she sensed some competition.

Annoyingly, I'm not above a tinge of resentment myself. But that girl is not the point. My sister is. 

I linger at the door, hesitant to begin, but somehow I choke out his name. I have to keep myself in check throughout the conversation. Be direct. Tell him to stop leading Millerna on. Mention Marlene but offer no condemnations. It's only natural because Millerna is so much like her. Millerna could get hurt. She will be hurt. Hurt like I have been… Can't tell him that. Generalize it to all women. 

My mind's barking out instructions so quickly, I barely register what I'm actually saying to him and what he is saying to me. One thing cuts through, straight down to every hope, fear and desire I have ever had.

"I will never love again."

A vow of his own. He's said similar things to me before but never with such clear conviction. And, as I look over his shoulder at the slumbering form of a girl who holds every promise of being another damsel he may rescue and defend in a lifelong, misguided attempt to save himself, with such apparent contradiction.

"Liar." To me. To himself. When I first realized I couldn't proffer solutions to a man unwilling to acknowledge a problem, I turned my back and stepped purposely away.

This time, I run.

***

Author's Notes: Hope that wasn't dreadfully long between updates. I've been a busy girl. *Plug warning* BFUM's been remodeled and actually has honest to god new content! Click on the link in my author's profile for stuff on movie Allen and some pretty pictures. Now to finish the Eries shrine, start doing those edits to 'Girl' I've been wanting to do, write the next chapter, finish the one-shot I started in August and completely forgot about after writing six-thousand words in three days…….

Next up: The Runaway Princess (And a little more Alucier than you got here, fanclubbers ^_^).


	3. The Runaway Princess

***Some portions of dialogue have been quoted from the subtitled version of the series on the DVD set distributed by Bandai***  
  
  
"always..."  
  
II. The Runaway Princess  
  
  
  
I would like to sleep now. I want the remaining hours of this dreadful day to drift away in obliviousness or, barring that, in some capricious dream in which real adversities are transmuted into absurd fantasies that nonetheless carry the insight I fail to grasp in my waking life.  
  
I had such a dream not long ago, only the meaning it carried wasn't anything I wanted to dissect. I was playing with Millerna's old doll collection, but instead of the plain visages of painted porcelain, each doll was someone I knew. I was trying to fit them all inside of a dollhouse that was a replica of the villa my family summered in when I was a little girl. Despite the enormous size of the dollhouse, it wouldn't work. The Caeli dolls alone (including a thirteenth that I knew was wrong, but in the infernal logic of dreams, simply accepted anyway) took up an entire floor. Clearly, some dolls had to go.  
  
Various servant, handmaiden and councilmen dolls were sent into exile, along with the thirteenth Caeli and his brethren that didn't feel familiar. I pitched Doll Meiden clear across the room. The six knights that were left (Lord Ramkin, Alucier, Allen, Revius, Seclas and the red-haired one that Alucier and Revius both dislike) shared space with a large doll in my father's clothing and twin dolls with pale blond hair of the purest silk and finely detailed lavender eyes. The only difference between those two dolls was the color of their dresses.  
  
I sorted them sensibly into their rooms. Father and Lord Ramkin in the attic because they were important people and important people should be at the top of the house. The red-haired Caeli was put in a room on the bottom floor far away from Alucier and Revius. They got the biggest room on the second floor so they wouldn't be cramped once I added Seclas.   
  
When I got to the dolls that represented my sisters, I became upset. I couldn't tell which one of them was which so I couldn't put them anywhere. I knew Marlene was the one in red and Millerna in pink but I just couldn't put that knowledge into use. Finally, I tossed the dolls into a room on the first floor, ashamed because they weren't where they were supposed to be and I couldn't fix it.  
  
Only the Allen doll wasn't situated. I held onto him while I reexamined the layout of the dollhouse. He didn't go anywhere. Not one of the rooms suited him. I didn't want to experience the same failure I had with my sisters, so I chose not to place him at all. He was my doll, I reasoned. I could do whatever I wanted to do with him. I clutched him to my chest and walked away from the accusing faces of the other dolls. Allen was my favorite doll. They knew I was abandoning them because I'd rather play alone than bother trying to find a way they could all fit together.   
  
Reluctantly, I returned to the dollhouse and laid Allen down on the second floor. He gripped my hand, surprising me, but let go and settled in with his friends. The last thing I remember before waking was questioning why a silver-haired doll had not been made and wondering whom I should ask to change that.  
  
Millerna says I'm trying to control her. I say I'm trying to help her by guiding her. Really though, aren't those the same thing said differently? In the connotation, lies the motivation. How then, does someone understand another when they both refuse to speak clearly? Or when someone says something the other refuses to hear? Allen and I spoke of Asturia and Fanelia and the only thing communicated there was how angry we are with each other. He *was* angry though. I suppose that's better than indifference. You can only be provoked by things you care about.   
  
Peculiar that an all out fight would contain more hope than a comparatively peaceful exchange. I will never love again. There's no hope in that, nothing but resignation.   
  
A dull throb in my temple tells me I've been thinking too long on this, that I should get that sleep. I open the window in the hopes that fresh air will quell my headache and I'm met with the acrid odor of smoke that all of Palas has regrettably become accustomed to. But this time, it's stronger. The winds conduct the heat of flames, not just the haze of their aftermath.  
  
Leaning out the window, I see a crowd of people, some having already changed into their nightclothes. They are all talking and watching the same thing.  
  
Palas, my home, is on fire.  
  
***  
  
It's an eventful night of a fleeing king and his company, fire crews scrambling to keep damage to a minimum and diplomats doing much the same. All accounts place the blame firmly on Zaibach, or specifically, a red guymelef belonging to Zaibach, but that's not how it plays out in the council chamber. Of course, I find out these facts much later when I've finally managed to corner my father for a private meeting.   
  
Father holds his head in a way that suggests that my headache has moved on to him. I feel sympathy for him, given how late he stayed up last night trying to smooth things over with our 'allies'. That sympathy disbands when he tells me how Zaibach's rampage through Palas was brought to a close and what was done to those involved.  
  
"I'm sorry, but I couldn't have understood you correctly," I seethe. "The Zaibach soldier that started the fires was sent back to his a commander *with an apology from us for spotting that Escaflowne guymelef sooner* and Allen, who stopped the man from destroying what was left of the surrounding area, was put in prison?"  
  
"According to the terms of our treaty, Zaibach is entitled to pursue its fugitives within our borders using reasonable force," he recites. "Allen Schezar violated that treaty by hindering their pursuit."  
  
"Reasonable force?! He was killing our people."  
  
Father shakes his head tiredly. "I know, Eries. Zaibach guymelefs are quite proficient at that. Did you know that they are capable of mass producing them?"  
  
I don't need to ask how he knows it. I'm sure Zaibach explained everything to him in detail. It's not the lack of sleep that's making him weary.   
  
I try consolation, something to take his mind off how easily our country was humbled. "At least now that Fanel's gone, they won't have anymore business here and they'll leave us in peace."  
  
Father grimaces, as if the pain in his head had flared. He's so quiet, so still that I go to his side to make sure he's all right.  
  
He waves me away. He's not all right and he doesn't want me trying to change that. "Within the hour," he states, "a Zaibach fleet will be arriving in Palas. They'll be using our harbor as a staging ground."  
  
Military tactics were never one my strengths but even I can figure out the basic plan. Asturia enjoys its vast wealth because of its proximity to other nations. Trade is made much easier by doing it from a central location and our merchants have long trumpeted our country as being the 'center of Gaea.'  
  
But trade is not the only thing that benefits from strategic positioning. "Which country?" I ask. "Which country are we helping them to invade?"  
  
Father answers in a sigh so hushed, I have to ask him to repeat himself.  
  
"Freid."  
  
***  
  
My memories of Freid are all tied to Marlene, its former duchess. With her death nearly three years ago, those memories narrow to a handful of visits, none of which lasted more than two or three days and all of which were undertaken because of my nephew, Chid. He's all that remains of my sister. Precocious to the point where most mistake him to be years older than he truly is, I can still see the Marlene of my childhood in him. The shrug of his shoulders when sad, the brightness of his face when happy, enthusiasm for a good story, the waves in his soft blond hair -- all are signs of his maternity. His eyes though… his eyes belong to his father.  
  
I should say biological father. Mahad dal Freid has taken Chid in and never once claimed him as anything but his own son. It's one of the many things I admire about the man. I thought Father shared my high opinion of him. I know the Duke would never offer my father as a sacrificial lamb to keep Freid safe, yet the opposite is about to happen. Already, the shadows of Zaibach's floating fortresses cover most of Palas.  
  
The people are frightened. They wonder if we are the ones being invaded and speculate on the horrors that will take place. How much relief would it be to them to know that they are right, but the victims will be the denizens of the allied country to which they gave a beloved princess? Less, I think, than Father has calculated.  
  
Millerna was only furious. She didn't know about Freid when I saw her, but the combination of Allen being thrown in prison and a foreign fleet hanging in the sky had her barreling towards Father's office, intent on having the same fight I did. I imagine it's over by now and her luck was no greater than mine.   
  
The worst part is that I don't know which side of the fight I really fall on. I don't want to see Freid invaded. I don't want the lives of my nephew and my brother-in-law being put in jeopardy. I don't want a country, any country, to be forced into war. That includes Asturia. Complying with Zaibach ensures our safety, but who is placating whom? Will betraying Freid save us or merely delay a similar fate?  
  
Going for a walk around the palace yards won't solve this for me. If anything, it's alarming to the people to see the princess they can always count on as being emotionless being consumed with worry. I'm grateful when I see Alucier coming for me. At the very least, he'll be able to provide a different perspective.  
  
"I need to tell you something." It's private and important, going by how he grabs me, takes me away from everybody to an isolated window seat and pulls the outer curtain. He won't even speak until he's double-checked that no one can here us.  
  
"Alucier, what is -- "  
  
"Not that I actually saw something like this occurring, but in theory, I want to know your opinion on what should be done given who is possibly involved."  
  
The babbling notwithstanding, I can tell he's serious. "And this hypothetical situation is… ?"  
  
"Okay, say there's this princess and she goes down to the jail to visit a friend who's there and she takes with her that friend's second-in-command. Say that during the visit, a guard gets knocked unconscious and the friend's cell just happens to pop open. Now say that after they've left the prison, they run into somebody, someone like myself for example, who after having the circumstances explained to him in full, if not in a hurried manner, decides to contribute ever so slightly to the situation by redirecting the remaining guards on the floor."  
  
Well. That clears up what Alucier's perspective is. This could be to my benefit though. "Where are they now and what are their intentions?"  
  
"I talked mostly to that Gaddes guy. Allen's crew has his guymelef loaded and the Crusade ready to go at the dockyard. He mentioned the country of Freid but he didn't know much about it. They're headed out to a carriage that's ready at the stables. Allen's changing into uniform so in case anyone stops them, they can claim to be a princess going out with her Caeli escort and the carriage driver."  
  
"Which would work until the guards came chasing after them screaming at them to stop."  
  
"Yeah, that's why I came for you. You were going to talk to your father this morning. You know what's going on more than I do. I thought it should be up to you to put a stop to it or not," Alucier says, adjusting his glasses in an old mannerism that means he's conflicted.   
  
We don't have time for indecisiveness. The guard will wake up or others will come to check on him and the prisoner. If Allen is to escape, he would likely go to Freid and warn them. It's not much, but it's better than having an army show up on Mahad's doorstep without him being able to prepare for their arrival.  
  
I form the plan as I go. "Revius is captain of the guard. Have him announce a jailbreak. If we preempt the alarm, then we can control the search. I know you won't be able to keep everybody away from the stables but Allen and his sergeant should be able to deal with the few guards that do pursue them."  
  
"You want them to go?"   
  
"I want Allen to go. Freid deserves to know what's coming and if the information is delivered by a prison escapee, then Zaibach can't very well blame us for that, can they? Millerna is another matter entirely. She stays here, out of harm's way."  
  
Alucier brings up the last part of the plan I haven't figured out. "And how are we going to stop her? They've probably already left for the stables. How are we going to catch up to them?"  
  
"I know a shortcut to the dockyard you could take," says a raspy voice from outside our niche. Within seconds, Alucier is pressing the edge of his sword against the voice's owner. The man is a little shaken having been pulled through the curtain and thrown onto the window seat in such a rapid procession. Just for a few seconds though. Soon, he's ignoring the sword and adjusting his ill-fitting shirt in a futile attempt to cover his girth while chastising Alucier. "You Caeli Knights jump to violence too quickly. Let me explain --"  
  
"Explain what? Why you were eavesdropping on us?" Alucier demands.  
  
I don't want this to grow into a fight. It'll take time we don't have and draw attention we don't want. Besides, I finally recognize the old man. "You were with Allen and the rest on the Crusade, weren't you? You crept away right after they docked."  
  
"And I was in Palas before any of them," he says boastfully.   
  
So his claim of a shortcut appears to be valid. Alucier looks at me uncertainly. The old man may be telling the truth but that doesn't necessarily mean we should trust him. The only thing we both know for sure is that lingering any longer in the close confines of this alcove isn't a good idea. His appearance suggests he's a moleman. His earthy aroma certifies it.  
  
"How would we get to dockyard from here so swiftly?" I ask. "On a horse going full speed it would take more than five minutes."  
  
"Because the rider would be following the road. We'll take the direct route, through a tunnel."  
  
Alucier exhales sharply. "There's a secret tunnel from here to the dockyard?" As part of palace security, I know that he's troubled by the notion, but he can fix the breech later. I need to use it now.  
  
"Come on, then. Show it to me. Alucier, you go find Revius."  
  
The moleman hops off the cushion and gets ready to go. Abruptly, there's a man who hasn't yet sheathed his sword blocking his way. "You have to be kidding, Eries. I'm not letting you wander around in the dark in a mysterious tunnel with some strange man."  
  
"Actually, there are a few torches here and there," the old man chimes in helpfully.  
  
Over his discourse on the vision of molemen in relation to common humans, I make my case to my guard. "Someone has to get Revius and tell him what to do and someone has to confront Millerna while letting Allen go. It wouldn't matter if *I'm* caught doing the latter. Father will think I was too concerned with my sister to do anything to stop Allen. And really, what could a princess do against a highly trained swordsman? If it were to be you, you could be accused of being complicit in Allen's escape. It has to be me. Now, go! Don't make me order you to do it."  
  
It's against his better judgement, but Alucier relents. He makes sure the Moleman gets one last look at his sword before he rushes off.   
  
"Those Caeli," he observes. "Very protective of their women too."  
  
***  
  
True to his word, it's a quick trip through the surprisingly straight tunnel. I must duck down during most of the journey and the bits of crumbling dirt make me very thankful I had the foresight to put on a hat before going out for my walk. The last, steep stretch is the worst but when we emerge from the opening, it's to the sight of an anchored Crusade and her crew doing last minute preparations.   
  
Their too wrapped up in their work to notice us or do anything about our presence even if they did, so I stride to the spot a carriage would most likely have to stop in front of and take up position. The Moleman waddles after me.  
  
A carriage rounds the last curve. A group of guards on horseback are giving pursuit but they're too far back to be much of a threat. Unless someone like Millerna lets them catch up by not letting things go the way they should go.   
  
She's off to a promising start. She and Allen both gape at me for precious seconds trying to comprehend how I got here. They won't waste any more guessing why. "I won't tell Father of this, Millerna. Come back to the castle with me."  
  
There are so many sensible things she could say but it's the same tired rhetoric about Allen. Just as she pronounces that she's leaving the country, the reason for that trip cancels it on her behalf. Allen picks her up and carries her back into the carriage. Millerna's squealing and squirming continue even after Allen shuts the carriage door behind him.  
  
I don't want to know what he's saying to her. I don't want to know what he has to do to get her to be silent. As long as it works, I tell myself more than once. As long as she stays…  
  
And it does work. Allen hops out of the carriage and sends the horses running in circles. Millerna's up shortly and shouting out the windows at him but he hasn't the time to listen to her. The guardsman have entered the dockyard.  
  
Allen knows Alucier's role in this. Revius' part can be guessed by how easily he made it here and the paltry number of guards that came after him. Any action by the two of them more or less carries a tacit approval from me. It's not as if I've made a single move to stop him, either.  
  
For my help, I am rewarded. Gaddes and his crew are yelling about the guards and have gotten the Crusade moving but Allen has one last thing to do before leaving. He bows formally to me, as a knight should, but a mercurial smile plays across his face as it did in the past when the only use we had for etiquette was as fodder for private jokes. Like a friend would…  
  
"I'll be off then."  
  
The guards rush in behind me and slow down. They can't get straight at Allen without the risk of running me over. It gives him the time he needs to board his leviship and be gone. One last favor on my part.   
  
The guards are cursing quietly. Letting a prisoner escape will not sit well with their commanders. Already, they're making excuses, some of them involving making my safety a priority. Won't they be thrilled when they see Millerna and have another princess they can claim they were protecting?   
  
I'll go along with whatever story they wish to tell. For now, I ignore them in favor of a rapidly vanishing leviship. Seeing Allen again has become a matter of 'if' rather than 'when' and I want to remember that goodbye even if the only thing I can do about it is plaintively call after him.  
  
***  
  
Millerna is back at the palace. The guards have received a strongly worded reprimand and a month's worth of duties far below their ranks. Father's having another meeting with our cheerful friend, the Strategos. Jichia only knows what he's telling them. In a rare show of solidarity, Millerna and I pretended to be unaware of Allen's destination when we were questioned about the mess. The session was brief. Royal guards aren't used to interrogating princesses and Father knew we weren't going to say anything no matter how long and often we were asked. I think the Moleman lingering around us unnerved them too.   
  
I'm grateful for his help, but he disappeared before I was able to offer my appreciation. I doubt he wanted to stick around long enough for questions about his role in all this to be asked. He has secrets he probably wanted to keep to himself too. Millerna tried to pry them out of him. There wasn't a minute of our ride back to the palace that didn't contain a demand from her to know how I got there so fast. She was so curious, I had Alucier and Revius agree to take turns watching her. If Millerna knew about tunnels leading out of the palace, the first thing she would do is take one. Allen and I were the ones who decided she should stay in Palas. Millerna made no such agreement. She never has learned the fine distinction between righteous determination and plain hardheadedness.   
  
I don't know what she thinks she's going to be able to do. True, Mahad would be quicker to listen to his sister-in-law than the former lover of his dead wife, but in the end, he's rational enough to put aside any personal conflicts and listen to Allen. If Millerna were in Freid, she would just be another person for him to worry about protecting. He's going to have a hard enough fight without that distraction.   
  
But if Millerna were in Freid, would Father let Zaibach attack? Father may play his political games and use us as pawns, but never in a way that would cause us harm.  
  
Perhaps it's best that I'm no longer on the council because I've been with it too long if I'm starting to think of people in terms of their strategic value. Millerna is my sister. I've spent too much time and sacrificed my relationship with her to keep her safe. I can't let her run away to Freid even it could, in some way, be beneficial.  
  
So far, Millerna's played along with me. Dinner was a collection of inanities about the weather, but she was there. Revius followed her from her room to the dining hall to make sure of it. Alucier escorted me back to my room, ever so coincidently at the same time Millerna was returning to hers. I can hear the heavy footsteps of the guard Revius appointed for night watch pacing outside in the hallway. My little sister must not have been listening so carefully. There's the sound of a door creaking slowly ajar, then a soprano mope of disappointment followed by the same door being shut with a great deal more force than was used to open it.  
  
Millerna won't be sneaking off anywhere tonight and she knows it. For the next few minutes, I'm treated to a muffled rant. I assume it's a rant. Words aren't making it through the walls but the tone of her voice passes through with clarion quality.  
  
Tired of the day and everything in it, I crawl into bed and resume the previous night's desire for sleep. As I drift off, Millerna's voice breezes in from the window. She's calmer now, though she must still be angry if she's venting into the courtyard. She *needs* to get to Freid. She *won't* give up on Allen. It's foolish. Anyone pulling late duty tonight is going to have simply wonderful gossip about the royal family tomorrow.  
  
I'm so drowsy and so inured to her complaints that I almost miss it. If she's throwing a tantrum, she's making unusual dramatic pauses. I sit up and strain to hear.  
  
"There's a guard up on the floor. You'll need to lead him away long enough for me to get out of my room."  
  
She's giving instructions. She's talking to someone.  
  
She's plotting her escape.   
  
Who would help her? None of the guards on duty would. Revius is their commander. They answer to him and he would answer to me. Millerna's tomboyish ways have alienated her from most of the overly conventional handmaidens that we employ. She's never taken one into enough confidence to aid in such a ploy. Allen took the entirety of his crew with him.  
  
I creep over to the window and peek out to try to see her accomplice. The moons are bright. Their light is amplified by the canal waters catching it and tossing it out into the courtyard. For the dead of night, I couldn't ask for better illumination.  
  
But I can't see anyone. Scanning the shadows, scouring the yard piece by piece reveals no one. Just as I begin to think that my sister's having a bit of fun with me, the identity of her collaborator, along with explanation for why I couldn't see him, comes to me in a rich earthen smell brought to my room by the night winds.  
  
So the Moleman believes in helping any princess in need. How noble of him. How inopportune for me. There's no telling what kind of paths and tunnels this man knows about. With him as a guide, Millerna could turn a corner and disappear forever.  
  
I will not let that happen. After pulling my dress and boots back on, I step out into the hallway in time to see the guard being predictably drawn off his post by the appearance of a stray moleman sauntering around the stairwell. For once, we sisters do think alike. Millerna joins me shortly thereafter, surprised and not in a pleasant way.  
  
Caught but eternally defiant, Millerna smoothes over the severe black cloak she's covered herself in as if she was doing nothing more than going for a walk. "I thought you had gone to bed, Sister," she says simply.  
  
"I thought the same of you, but then I heard you talking to someone in the courtyard."  
  
She checks the stairwell. Finding it empty, she says, "Then you know what I intend to do. Excuse me," retrieves two bags from her room and brushes past me.  
  
"I could call the guards on you," I remind her.  
  
"Then do it."  
  
I could almost admire her bluntness. Pity that she's applying it to a reckless pursuit. It's that singular vision of hers. Everything will happen according to her will. She can just leave the palace, sneak off to Freid and magically stop an invasion while winning true love. Never mind the fact that she's never set foot outside this city without an entourage of servants and guards cradling her. She's got her indomitable will.  
  
And a healthy lead on me. I anticipated another one of our quarrels but her direct approach threw me off. She's skipping down the stairs while I stare stupidly at her retreating form. This would be a perfect time to call for the palace guards. Stuck in a stairwell, there's no place for her to hide, no room to duck in to. I don't call them though. Millerna is my sister. No matter how much I disagree with what she's doing, I won't have her humiliated by dragged about by the guard like a common criminal.  
  
Nor will I let her go without a fight. I chase after her mutely, waiting for an opening to confront her. Millerna will not give me one. She strides purposefully, turning sharply at the places the Moleman must have told her about and pausing only once to recollect her bearings. We climb further down the palace until we're close to a canal. There are the sounds of water lapping against the walls and a boat pulling at its moorings. This must be the dock used to escort convicts out of the prisons. At the bottom of the rear of the castle, it was built so that the good people of Palas wouldn't have to look at the lower elements of our society as they were taken away for good. The Moleman served Millerna well. No one's going to even consider that a princess would use such a crude means of egress.  
  
He's settling in for a nap on the boat, surrounded by provisions. It's highly unlikely that the preparations were Millerna's doing, but it's a relief to know she's found someone, however unorthodox, that she can rely on.  
  
If I were going to let her go, that is.  
  
"Millerna."  
  
She's places her bags on the back of the boat, carefully so as not to disturb her travelling companion.  
  
"Millerna!" I won't be ignored, even if a have to climb on the damned boat myself.  
  
It doesn't come to that. Millerna comes back close enough to me so shouting won't be necessary. That doesn't mean it won't happen regardless.  
  
"You can't stop me. I've made up my mind."  
  
I have neither the patience for nor inclination towards tact. "You're abandoning your country? You're hopeless on your own."  
  
"Stop treating me like a child!" It's a horrible preamble for what amounts to another tantrum, but I listen dutifully and give her the same answers she's chosen to discount time and again. She even works in her medical studies and her insistence that the only reason she wanted to be a doctor was to help people.  
  
I should print out small cards with this speech and just give them to her whenever she's being insufferably selfish. "Royalty should use their position for the sake of their people. Such egotism is an insult to your people."  
  
What began in assertiveness ends in whining. I should have foreseen it, should have known her only motivation for anything these days, but hearing her scream, "But I love Allen!" as the one essential truth in the world stuns me.  
  
Because I had believed that despite her age and tempestuous temperament, Millerna would still have the sense enough to know love from a crush. To know duty from desire. To not repeat my mistake of placing all of her life in the fragile heart of one man.  
  
But how could she know? I've refused to teach her. I've told her *what* to do, but never why.   
  
"I'm going. Goodbye, Sister."  
  
She's through with me. She boards the boat and unties the thick ropes keeping it bound to the dock. With one word, I could keep her here. The guards might not reach her until she's gotten to the main canals, but they would get to her. They would bring her back, Father and I would take turns admonishing her, then she would be back at it again the next night.   
  
Millerna was right. I can't stop her; I can only delay her. And in the process, damage beyond repair the relationship between us. I would make that sacrifice if it meant Millerna would be out of harm's way, but she's determined to put herself on that path. I can't say anything that will deter her.  
  
So I say nothing at all. The boat floats away, creating a physical distance between my sister and I that pales to the emotional one that has existed for over a year. It's only after the fog has absorbed the vessel that I can speak again.  
  
"Goodbye, Sister."  
  
***  
  
Author's Notes: Whoa! Y'all been reviewing your little butts off. My deepest apologies for going into sloth mode in response. Work's been ridiculous lately and a tired Aerika writes no chapters. Come on beginning of the year slack off! Anyway, I have done some stuff. The revisions to 'The Secret Life of a Girl' have begun. Just chapter one so far. To give you an idea of how much change will take place, I did even want to change all that much with the first chapter and it went from 1900 some words (unreal, isn't it?) to around 2700. Wait until I take a hatchet to chapters two and three, the ones I *really* want to revise. Find the revised chapter one at:  
  
www.geocities.com/eriesariaaston/girl_1.html  
  
The design of the Eries shrine has changed slightly and the long delayed Eries x Allen essay is finally up. Speaking of Allen, BFUM has been updated too with one gallery page added.  
  
www.geocities.com/aerikas  
  
Next up: Daddy/daughter bonding time in The Nursemaid's Tale. (I will have this out before Christmas. I will have this out before Christmas. I will, etc.) 


	4. The Nursemaid's Tale

"Always…"

IV. The Nursemaid's Tale

If I thought letting Millerna go was the hardest thing I ever had to do in my life, it was only because I was in denial about what I would have to do after. Father needs to be told his youngest daughter has gone off on a personal quest of love and heroics and the one that ultimately let her do it was the only other daughter he has left. He needs to be told soon, too. Playing the idiot whenever Father asks me why she's not around isn't an act I wish to undertake, nor am I likely to be able to keep up. As guilty as I'm feeling, I wouldn't last long under one of his staring sessions. Besides, if Millerna's disappearance can be used to persuade him from withdrawing permission for Zaibach to use our harbor in their invasion of Freid, Father has to know about it before their fleet sets off.

Disclosure, though, is no longer viable as I reach the entrance to Father's office. Strategos Folken is already there, aware of Allen's escape on the previous day and spinning fabrications that will curtail any damage it might do to his country's plans of conquest. The man is soft-spoken, but his voice has a gravity that cuts to a person's core. This is not a voice you simply hear; you feel its texture and sense the solemn implications of what goes unsaid.

Literally, he talks of treason, of the credibility of a man who has tarnished the uniform that was supposed to mark him as one of his country's elite. Technical truths -- Allen did flee prison after being placed there by the king's orders -- but he goes beyond the nominal and into total fiction. 

His story is imaginative, enough so that it would make a fine plot for a novel. In it, a rogue knight, tired of serving those he deems lesser than him, sees an opportunity to improve his station. Partnering with a king whose aggression against Zaibach cost him his own country, the knight seeks to pit allies against each other by having it appear as if one country has betrayed the other. In the ensuing chaos, the knight would oust the current rulers of Asturia and elevate himself to the newly vacated crown.

It is a suggestion the Strategos emphasizes, nothing more than one of many ways to explain to Freid why Allen is there and spreading rumors of attack. Asturia's king has the same option to ignore it as he did to say no to Zaibach's fleet making itself at home over our waters.

I'm grateful that I'm on the outside of the room and can't see Father. He compliments Folken on the strategy; his only hesitation is the plausibility of Freid believing what could be considered such an outlandish tale. A rustle of heavy leather must be the Strategos dismissing Father's concerns with a wave.

"I have taken care of that," he says. "All that is left for you to do is send word to Freid of Schezar's treasonous activities."

Father doesn't give any words of agreement. They are given on his behalf. The Strategos slides towards the door, towards me. Halting momentarily, he reminds Father to send his missive to Freid shortly. The fleet is preparing to leave as dawn breaks and for the plans to fall into place, Asturia's part must be played in a timely manner.

Dawn. A few hours to persuade Father to defy a country whose fleet is occupying the capital city and whose representative exudes coercion even in silence. I can't do it. Millerna's presence won't be rallying cry. It will be retribution for our complicity. Machinery is in motion that won't be stopped by the idealistic scheming of two princesses naïve in the pitiless tactics of war.

"Your majesty," murmurs the Strategos as he passes by. He's gone into the shadows without waiting for me to reply. I'm too panicked to frame one. My sister is running to a battleground and I watched her go. My father, shaken already by how deftly he was reduced to a puppet at the end of Zaibach's strings, is about to learn exactly how much that will cost him.

He fell ill after my mother's death. Upon Marlene's, he passed out and caused us all to worry about a relapse. Though he recovered soon enough, he did not revert back to his usual spirits until some time later. I don't want to imagine his reaction to the danger Millerna is facing. Will he blame himself and let guilt multiply his apprehension? Or will he blame me for not forcing her to stay?

Relief spreads across his face as I come into his office. He expected a return of the Strategos and more of his 'requests'. He thinks he can rest now that Zaibach's departure is within reach. Halfway through putting the Strategos' dictation on Allen to paper, he believes this to be the end of his ordeal.

"Father, I need to tell you something."

He doesn't look up, only coughs for me to go on. He's in a hurry to finish. With the press of the royal seal into hot wax, his task will be completed. 

"Father, it's about Millerna."

He's retrieved a metal stamp from the top drawer of his desk. There are pale splatters of wax along the side from past impressions. Normally, Father uses whichever candle is burning on his desk as material for the seal, but none are lit. 

This is not a confession to make to his back. I can't tell him his daughter has run away while he's trying to lift a candle from its holder on the wall. It's such a mundane thing -- the king rummaging for office supplies -- that I could find it amusing in any other circumstance.

"This is important, Father! Please listen to me!"

And then he knows. The words 'Millerna' and 'important' gel together into a variety of scenarios which all have a horrible fate for his youngest child as their base. Drops of wax driven from their home by my father's shaking hand fall to the floor. "Where is she, Eries?" he demands. "Where is she?!"

I suspect I am only repeating information that his fear figured out the moment I said Millerna's name. "She left not long ago, by boat and in the company of one skilled in survival." I assume the Moleman is, anyway. A person living in the swamps doesn't achieve an old age purely by luck. "She wanted to go… She was going to Freid."

It's out; it's been said. I must now prepare a defense of my decision or find a way to compensate for my failure as a protective sister by being a consoling daughter. Someone will be blamed for this and regardless of who it is, I am the one who will be tending the wounds.

"That bastard!" Father growls. It's prologue to a candle being hurled to the other side of the room. Small spots burn and harden on my left hand, but Father won't be calmed by the accidental injury. "She was going after him, wasn't she?! Trailing after Schezar like a love struck fool!" 

"She wanted to warn Mahad," I say timidly, doubting whether her brother-in-law occupied a place other than the back of her mind. On more solid ground in regards to the truth, I add, "She was against letting Zaibach invade Freid."

"Do you think I'm for it?" he shouts. "You've played at politics long enough, Eries. Was your understanding that facile or do you think me that cold and calculating?"

"No, Father," I answer quickly. His face has paled considerably. Sweat that has little to do with the early summer heat soaks his brow. "I know you did what you had to do. Zaibach gave you no choice. Millerna knows it too."

"The only thing Millerna knows is Schezar false charms. If he hadn't gone to Freid, she wouldn't have stepped foot out of this palace!" He grabs the letter he composed and holds it tightly. "I lost one daughter to that country. Now it threatens to claim another. Almost as pitiless as that damned Caeli," he sneers at me.

Father has known and drawn conclusions about my friendship with Allen from its beginning. One of conclusions he came to was that Marlene could not have been involved with Allen because of his feelings for me. It was a belief I assumed he continued to hold. It's possible that he's referring to Millerna, but now is not the time to ask for clarification. Father has his scapegoat; giving him more reasons to hate Allen wouldn't be wise. I can almost hear the scratching of a pen as Father adds further embellishments to the Strategos' tale. Silence and a hasty retreat is virtually the only recourse.

Father pays no head to my departure. He's uttering curses under his breath -- curses about Zaibach and Allen and every god in Asturia's pantheon. The stillness in the hall allows for a last curse to reverberate softly:

"Gods… my daughter… why couldn't I… ?"

***

In the subsequent days, Father withdraws increasingly. His last public act before going into seclusion was to send two messengers out -- one to Freid to deliver the treason charges and another to Zaibach informing them that the Princess Millerna should be in Freid visiting family at the time of their fleet's arrival. I didn't get to read either message. I knew the content of the former from overhearing the conversation between Father and the Strategos. The second one bothered me. With the precarious position Zaibach has put us in, it couldn't have said more than 'Please don't hurt our princess. It would upset us terribly. So while you're annihilating our former ally, please be on the lookout for a girl in pink and take care not to violently bring about her death.' Meiden Fassa assured me later it was a sternly worded list of the repercussions facing Zaibach should she come to harm. He and I both knew that if we were truly capable of backing up those threats, we wouldn't be dealing with Zaibach in the first place.

Meiden is really all of Father that I've seen since that night. Other advisors and servants enter his private chambers, and they exit alone. I've ventured over there four times and was turned back on each occasion by a guard claiming Father was resting and shouldn't be disturbed. Stupid irony. He's so worried about one daughter that he forgets the other that's right in front of him.

I try scheduling a visit through Meiden but he too is elusive. The government must still run even if its ruler doesn't want to do it and someone must take up the slack. Between Meiden and Lord Millay, the council flows on without the king, without any Aston, offering input. I'd accuse the man of usurping power that isn't his, but if forced into it, I would admit that he's doing a decent job of it. The man knows how to run a business better than anyone in this country and after the chaos we've seen recently, shifting emphasis back to commerce is good for the morale of the people. Besides, if I wanted to lecture him, I would have to get in line behind his wife. The one time I did catch up to him, she was haranguing him about some scheme of his. I got the impression that she was vastly more upset by his undertaking of the scheme on principle rather than its apparent failure.

On the surface, it does appear that Asturia has returned to 'business as usual'. The markets are full again and the leviships kept away by Zaibach's fleet are coming in and out on a scale larger than ever. What only a few know though, is that some of those ships are carrying soldiers and equipment culled from the less strategic outposts throughout the land. Of the remaining eleven Caeli, all of the ones who won their appointments through prowess over good social connections have been summoned to Palas.

It's being done with the utmost subtlety, or a very sincere effort of subtlety. An extra soldier stationed here and there. A greater number of patrols on the streets of the city and on the palace grounds. They blend in slowly but surely. In influx of melef units is harder to ignore, but the people find a way. Normalcy has become a treasure and the people hoard over it, discounting anything that might threaten their feelings of security.

I find it much harder to ignore. With no real orders and no imminent attacks, the Caeli brought back to the capital spend their time among the three that were already here. I needed to bring in another table to accommodate the breakfasts that usually were just for me, Alucier, Revius and, on occasion, Seclas. I used to enjoy the languorous meals and personal talk. This morning, the heavier meat and egg dishes were gone before I had more than a few sips of my juice. No great loss, but I had to choke down a berry muffin amidst details of body parts being hacked off and used to decorate the landscape. Utrillo, one of the older knights that had come from the border of Cesario, was recounting an anecdote about Adama Ish and an unlucky troupe of marauders that had been so stupid as to attack the beastman's home village. Alucier's loyalty manifested in politely asking his senior to tone it down with a nod towards me, but that was the extent of it. Tales of one of the Swordsman of Gaea don't get told every day. At least they didn't before my coterie of Caeli bloated up to its current size.

Breakfast isn't the only time they're there. A cluster of men in blue and gold seems to form wherever I go. I make the joke to Alucier that I must be the most protected woman on Gaea and when he doesn't laugh, I get the point. Father isn't seeing me, but he is seeing to my safety.

There's no word of Millerna's. The trip to Freid is a long one but everyone should have arrived there by now. The messenger Father sent has returned. He addressed the council but the scant information I was able to wheedle out of Lord Poniard wasn't more than a confirmation that Freid had been told the outrageous story. There was no indication whether they believed the Strategos' lies or if Millerna and Allen were there. One absence was taken note of -- though it was addressed to the Duke of Freid, it was one of his assistants that took the message. 

So Mahad was away. I examine that fact to determine what, if anything at all, it means. It's certainly not unheard of for a ruler to be away from the capital of his country but to stay away at a time of strife? Does that mean Allen's warning fell on deaf ears? Did Allen get there at all? Zaibach knew he was en route. One small leviship against an entire fleet barely qualifies as a fight. Did Millerna's journey come to a similar end? It worries me that there was no word on any Asturians there. One would think a Freidian would make some kind of remark to a representative of a country if any of his countrymen, prominent countrymen at that, were there. Conversely, Freid could be aware of Zaibach's activities and Mahad is away investigating them and readying his army.

I'll drive myself insane at this rate. The news will come when the news comes. And a property of bad news is that it always travels quickly.

***

Restless, nervous and incongruously… bored. I want something to do but I can't focus to do anything. I've read and reread the first paragraph of every book on the first two shelves of the bookcase in my bedroom. I've made use of my Caeli bodyguards by putting them on the opposite end of a chessboard and lost miserably to each one of them. Revius found some amusement in it, especially since he started making up his own rules four moves into the game and I didn't notice even though Alucier was yelling at him the entire match. Today, this fretful ennui reached a new low. I'm sitting on the edge of a window trying to get the attention of an owl.

Natal has been flying all over Palas since her Allen's departure. She comes around the palace several times a day, making rounds over the courtyard and keeping the rodent population down in the stables. She'll perch on different statues and posts, rest her wings and take off again. At first, I thought she was stalking prey, but then I noticed a pattern to her flights. Circles over the courtyard, up to the leviship dockyard and back -- a path tread by Allen when he brought her here. She's searching for her lost master, roving the skies in a relentless hunt for some sign of him but the traces have withered to vapor.

I can relate, little owl. I can relate.

Natal feels no bond with me though. A piercing whistle causes her to twist her head around in that uncanny way owls can but I'm not food or a nice shoulder to sit on, so I'm looking at the back of her head before three Caeli can ask me what I'm doing.

I clip an explanation out. "Natal, Allen's owl." 

Alucier and Revius know her; Alucier was with me when I visited the Castelo and Natal was just a baby and Revius saw her when the Crusade came to Palas recently. Seclas looks at them inquisitively.

"He has a pet owl? Why would you have a pet owl? I didn't even know owls could be pets. I mean, what do you do with them? Sit, owl! Good boy! Here's a mouse for you!"

"Natal's a girl," Alucier clarifies.

"Okay, good girl," Seclas corrects himself. "Seriously though, they're not exactly cuddly creatures."

"You're more of a fluffy kitten guy, right?"

"Shut up, Revius."

"Will all of you shut up?" I snap. Three variations of 'but I wasn't even talking that much' are mumbled.

"I don't think whistling is going to work," Alucier says as he walks over to my window. "You're just annoying her. And us."

"Do you have a suggestion?"

That was the wrong question to ask. They have suggestions, lots of them, but absurdity is more important to them than practicality.

"Here, owlie, owlie. Here, girl."

"Offer her some food."

"Oh, yeah, Eries is going to stand there waving dead vermin around."

"Actually, it would probably attract her attention more if the vermin was alive."

"What difference would that make?"

"The movement would catch her eyes."

"It wouldn't be moving enough if she was waving it?"

"It would be the wrong kind of movement."

"And the owl would know this how?"

"Well, they're supposed to have sharp eyes and be intelligent…"

"So she'll deduce from the way the vermin flops around in Eries' hand that something's not right and she'll act accordingly."

"Why would an owl care anyway? Wouldn't her food coming pre-killed save her a step?"

"If the three of you don't stop talking right now," I snipe through clenched teeth, "I'm going down to the shopping district, buying the longest damned blond wig I can find and stuffing it on one of you to see if she'll fall for it."

Seclas, the one who knows me the least, proceeds as if I'm taking part in the joking. "You'll probably want to use Revius, you know my facial hair and Lucier's glasses might throw her off."

His colleagues are more aware. "Actually," Revius says significantly to Seclas, "She can't use either you or me because we need to go on duty RIGHT NOW."

"But --" Seclas starts, but Revius grabbing him by the lapel and hauling him out of the room stops all questions about his work schedule.

Alucier taps his foot in time to my resumed whistling. Louder whistles are met by louder tapping until Natal flies off, taking away my excuse to overlook him. "Does something concern you?" I finally ask.

"She's a pretty owl, Eries, but I don't think her snubbing you if sufficient reason for hollering at us. You've been on edge lately…"

"Is that surprising?" I cut in. "My sister's gone, my father might as well be since I haven't seen him since I broke that news to him and my nephew and brother-in-law, at any second if it hasn't happened already, are about to be acquainted with a large enemy fleet that we welcomed to our country. Oh, and I don't have any say in any of this because the position for which I worked so hard on the council is gone too."

"Isn't there something else you're leaving out?"

"Don't be sarcastic with me, not now." 

But he isn't being sarcastic, not at all. "I just meant that with all that's going on -- and it's completely understandable that you would be upset by it -- you really haven't had the time to deal with another problem."

"I didn't list enough for you?"

"Eries," he says earnestly, "We've talked about Freid, we've talked about your sister and we've talked about your father and you never got that angry. We talk about an owl and that's what sets you off."

__

Why don't you hold up some road signs, Alucier? It's not completely and utterly clear where you're headed with this. Being so caustic towards him would only make him think I was proving the point for him though, and I don't care to hear any big-brotherly advise. "You're not going to waste the afternoon trying to psychoanalyze me, are you?"

"You're the one that has all those books on the subject. Can't blame me for picking one up now and then." He has the sense not to say directly what he thinks the problem is.

He'll get to it eventually though, via hints and allusions to Allen, so I might as well head him off in the bluntest way possible. "I got upset because Natal ignoring me just reinforces how ineffectual I've been lately. She's an interesting bird; that's why I wanted to get her attention. There is no deeper meaning to it. I don't think Allen's going to come back to me with all his emotional problems neatly resolved because I was nice to his owl. I am through with him. He is through with me. And I am through with this conversation."

"Fine. Whatever you say," Alucier says. "You should know the situation better than me, right? If you tell me that you're completely over Allen, then that's what you believe."

He's practically daring me to keep going by saying 'should' and 'believe' like that but I won't be goaded so childishly. To emphasize how tiresome I find this topic, I turn back towards the window. A breeze causes my hair to flair out and when I tuck the strands back behind my ear, I jostle one of my earcuffs loose.

While fixing it back in place, Alucier continues with his merry disbelief. "Yep, you are completely over him."

***

My aunt Newel was a relentlessly cheerful woman, the kind with a homily to cover any event and a smile so sincere, you were either cheered by it or pushed that much deeper into cynicism. Rough times seemed to inspire her the most. The rain brings rainbows. Behind the darkest clouds, sits the brightest sun. The weather was a reoccurring motif. She was not a blood relative, having married my father's brother, Nueva, and she did not ingratiate herself well with her Aston in-laws. Father thought she was downright daft.

Today, I don't know what to make of her. 

In the blazing mid-afternoon sun, with the clear canals shimmering with crystals of light, a captain of one of Meiden Fassa's ships enters the palace and reports on what he saw on his last trade run to Godashim, the capital of Freid. The sheer importance of the news is enough to draw Father from his room and allow me to sit in on the council while the man speaks. The captain doesn't have the whole story; he listened to the war talk long enough to figure out this trade route wouldn't be profitable for some time to come and fled the ruined country as fast as his leviship would go. From what he saw, I understand his need to leave.

Freid still stands, its ruler does not. My brother is dead, struck down in the second and last confrontation with Zaibach forces. Ancient temples have been reduced to unstable piles of stone, the monks that populated them sent to the afterlife they spent so long contemplating. May it be the sanctuary their religious verses portrayed it as.

By some miracle, Chid is unharmed, but orphaned and facing the task of rebuilding under the onuses of grief and a foreign country's control. He's five years old; he shouldn't have to face traumas that could cripple an adult. 

Father presses the captain for word on what concerns him the most -- Millerna. It is confirmed that she was in Freid, but now, mysteriously is not. Rumor has it that she fled in an Asturian ship to an unknown destination and with Zaibach not so very far behind. 

The ship has to be the Crusade. Millerna is alive and with a crew that was able to escape Zaibach and our own security. It's good news, a relief, if only on a purely self-centered level. The worst did not come to pass. An unknown destination is just that, unknown. My sister could even be back over Asturian land at this moment.

Father, though, is taking a much less optimistic approach. "They're going after Millerna? Why would they go after her?"

"I'm not sure if they are, your highness," the captain back-peddles. He tries a positive spin. "But I heard that the ship had amnesty while in the borders of Freid."

"So the second it leaves those borders, Zaibach will go after her." Father will not be cajoled.

"Zaibach has no reason to pursue your daughter, Grava," Meiden says. "We cooperated with them to the full extent of their requests. They might just be making sure she returns here unharmed."

The man's made a fortune convincing people to believe every word he says, but Father's not in a buying mood. "If she were coming home, why didn't she let anyone know that? Why didn't she send any word to me?"

"From what I heard," the captain interjects, "they had to leave quickly. Probably just didn't have time to let every know where they were going."

He was trying to be helpful but the captain receives a displeased grunt as gratitude. "Why is she on the damned ship anyway? If Freid surrendered, she should have stayed there as an honored, protected guest." Father turns towards me as he answers his own question. "She had to stay with Schezar, didn't she? She just had to follow him!"

"Perhaps that could be to our benefit," Meiden says. It's strange that he's defending Allen, but it's clear that his goal is to calm Father down and a salesman will say whatever it takes to close a deal. "You know how ingrained the code of chivalry is to a Caeli. They'll take death over seeing harm done to a woman."

"Isn't it also part of the Caeli code to obey the king?" Father counters. "He broke that covenant without a second thought. It wasn't my command that he let Fanel and Escaflowne escape the country. I sure as hell didn't tell him to escape prison after putting him there!"

I feel I should say something. The rest of the council is too afraid to even try to enter the conversation and Meiden isn't meeting with his usual success. I know my father. I should be able to get through to him. "He was driven to do those things by his oath to protect Fanelia's king and his associates. I'm sure --"

"Fanel," Father interrupts with a snarl. "He's the one they're after. Millerna will just be caught in the crossfire. Damn it, Meiden! If you would have kept your hands off that weird girl, he never would have had the chance to escape!"

I don't know what he's talking about, but turning on his friend isn't a good sign. Meiden takes it for an alarm, too. "Calm down, Grava! For all we know, Millerna's half-way home."

Father won't listen. He won't argue any more. He's clutching his arms to his chest, shaking his head. I mistake it for anger, but a strangled cry says it's pain.

"Grava?"

"Father, are you all right?"

His knees give out. He falls to the floor. Councilmen scream for doctors. Meiden rushes to his side.

Dear, old Aunt Newel -- what a fool she was.

*** 

"I'm sorry, your majesty, but I can't let you in. King Aston needs his rest."

"Then it's a good thing I came here merely to see him instead of having him do laps around the courtyard."

The nurse takes an unsure step backward and looks for backup in the guard stationed outside of Father's door but he gives her no help. He can fend off attackers armed with swords; my full imperial attitude is an unfamiliar weapon. I shouldn't do this to the poor woman. She's the typical palace nurse -- middle-aged, with the appearance and demeanor of a kindly mouse -- and she's only performing her duty. But I haven't seen Father since he collapsed and getting status reports on his health from the handmaiden that spoke to the friend of the man who works as Meiden Fassa's assistant is no longer cutting it. All I've heard is 'he needs his rest' and this woman repeating that phrase just makes it seems like everyone else knows more than I do. I'm his daughter, the last member of the royal family still here and in complete possession of their faculties. No one should or can deny me this visit.

And I owe it to him. I stood by like an idiot while Father ranted about Millerna. When he fell, I still did nothing. I could call it shock to see my healthy father struck suddenly ill, but Meiden saw it coming. He cautioned Father to calm down. He told the doctors that Father hadn't been feeling well. He walked with the doctors to the infirmary and stayed there by all accounts until morning. The man I consider to be a conniving weasel acted with more compassion than I did. Then I wasted more time coming up with justifications for that. Meiden might have ulterior motives for watching over Father like he did, but I have no excuse for forgetting him.

The nurse relents enough to promise me she'll consult the doctor to see if it's all right. I wonder if Millerna would have had such trouble being allowed to see him. Father was always closer to her, even during the fights the two had been having over the past year. Of us girls, she was the baby, the last child to watch grow up and the last piece of Mother any of us had left. He cherished her, indulged her and, for better or for worse, made her headstrong enough to abandon her country to do what she thought was right.

I don't remember that same care, the same attention with me. The standard support was there. I had a home, clothes, food and every plaything a child could ask for. We took trips. I went places and met people the average commoner hasn't even heard of. He protected me from dangers real and perceived while letting take my own chances such as joining the council and refusing to marry. I know that he loved me, that he still loves me. I know it… but it comes down to how much I *feel* it.

Is that really his fault though? Before she died, Mother would tease me that I was six going on sixty because I was so serious and aloof. In fifteen years, I haven't changed all that much. I loved Allen for years and never said anything more revealing to him than 'I care about you.' By the time I worked up the courage for something more, it was too late to do anything with those emotions. It was the same with Millerna. When I realized how controlling I was of her, trying to be her mother instead of her sister and failing at both, she was gone in the next minute. 

Sick or not, Father's still here. And, to be mordantly humorous, he's not going to be able to walk away from me for some time coming. I won't have to ask a nurse for permission to see him; I will be the nurse that lets others in. I owe us both that.

His room is dark. The curtains are drawn. No lamps are lit. The nurse cautions me to be quiet but it's so still in the room, the silence is more grating than noise could ever be. I half wonder if Father is even in here.

He is -- buried under covers and breathing laboriously in sleep. He doesn't look good. It's debatable how well he used to carry his age, but now it hangs off him, making him look feeble and infirm instead of seasoned and wise. It's troubling to see him like this.

The easy thing to do would be to leave. The nurse is uttering hushed 'tsks' at me for staying as long as I have. She was apparently right about Father needing his sleep. I haven't said anything yet and don't know what I would say if Father was awake. I feel like I'm wasting her time.

So I dismiss her and take a seat by the bed. Father's sleeping. I'll use that time to collect my thoughts. Leaving would also be the cowardly thing to do and to be brutally honest about it, I don't know how many more chances I'll get with Father.

He sleeps most of the afternoon. I skim some of the books he has out, pleasantly surprised that we have some reading material in common. I wouldn't have pegged my father as a fan of modern plays. Midway through the third act of Pataca's treatise on the plight of two peasants trying to find love and financial prosperity in modern Palas, Father stirs. He looks groggily at me, not sure if I'm really here just as I doubted his presence earlier.

"Why are you here, Eries?"

Not the greeting I expected, but at least he's talking and coherent. "I wanted to see for myself how you were doing."

"Good. Don't believe those damned doctors. And that nurse. She fusses over me as if I'm an invalid."

It's perversely heartening to see illness hasn't dampened his gruffness. Yet, I wasn't imaging his pallor. As in his dealings with Zaibach, Father won't outright admit a weakness that's obvious to a simpleton. "I'm glad you're feeling better, but you shouldn't overestimate yourself. You were rather upset about Millerna."

"Any news of her?" he asks, more brightly than he looks. "She should be home by now, shouldn't she?"

Yes, she should be. But she isn't. The doctors must be keeping this from Father to prevent a relapse. "Not yet, but you know how she is. She wouldn't be Millerna if she didn't arrive late and make a big entrance."

"This isn't a ball, Eries."

"No, but she wasn't particularly pleased with either of us when she left and this could just be her way of making us worry so we'll appreciate her more."

"You're ready with the excuses, Eries," he laughs sadly, "But do you really believe your little sister malicious enough to stay away like that? Though, she did run away in the first place…"

"Because she wanted to warn Mahad."

"Because she wanted to go after Schezar. Honestly, Eries, can you tell me that she wouldn't have gone if that bastard hadn't gone first? That if he was still sitting in that prison cell, Millerna wouldn't be right there fawning over him?"

I shouldn't argue with him in his condition. I shouldn't lie, either. "You're right, Father. But that doesn't necessarily mean she'll stay away because of him."

"Hmpf. Considering the way you girls have all made fools of yourselves over him, you can understand why I have a hard time believing that."

This again. "Father, Allen and I were only friends. We're not any longer. And Millerna just has a very large crush on him. Those feelings will pass."

"As quickly as yours did? You've been feeding me that 'friends' nonsense for years, Eries. I've watched you with him a hundred times. Getting you to look at a suitor was a massive accomplishment, yet you always made time for him. Couldn't take a minute to greet important dignitaries at a ball, but you could get in one last dance…"

"That's no longer the case," I say harshly. This penchant of the people close to me for dredging up my past with Allen has gone beyond bothersome. "Or haven't you observed that?"

"Oh, I've noticed. It happened right around the time Millerna became truly concerted in her pursuit of Schezar. I didn't think you were the jealous sort, but I don't know you as well as I would like to."

"Obviously not, or you would know that petty jealousy had nothing to do with the rift between the two of us." I was concerned about his burgeoning relationship with my sister, but not for the reason Father thinks. And if he won't admit any weakness in the face of being confined to bed, I don't see the need to admit how right he was about my feelings for Allen. Stubbornness does run in our family.

"No, no. I wouldn't think so. You did stand by him through that mess with Marlene, after all."

He's caught me off guard and he knows it. His shrewd stare stops me from pretending I haven't a single clue what he's talking about. I do ask him why he thinks something happened between Allen and Marlene.

"I'm not stupid, Eries. I've seen my grandson. I didn't think for a second that boy was Freidian but I let Schezar off the hook because I believed he was decent enough not to go after a woman whose little sister he was stringing along. My last trip to Freid put an end to that small bit of faith I put into him."

"Do I really have to use the phrase 'just friends' again?"

"Friends," he snorts. "Of course. Is that what happened, Eries? You wouldn't sleep with him so he went after Marlene instead?"

"Excuse me while I debate to whom that question is the most insulting."

"I'm not impugning you or Marlene. Or Millerna, for that matter. I place the blame squarely on that boy's shoulders. I just don't understand how three intelligent, poised young women could fall for such a…"

"Bastard?" I supply. "That is your pet name for him."

"He's trash, Eries. And I'm not talking about his status as a knight, his recent sojourn to Freid or that bizarre family of his. A good man doesn't go through three sisters and half the servant girls in the city."

"There's more to it than that." Gods, this is an odd turn. Father's more talkative than I've ever seen him (I'll have to ask that nurse what kind of medication they're giving him for pain and how damned high the dosage is) and his topic of choice is forcing me into defending Allen against the very things that have hurt me repeatedly. Well, he's not forcing me but I do feel compelled for some reason… "Can we talk about something else? Meiden's kept you informed about things, hasn't he?"

"Yes, yes. Everything's running smoothly. Very smoothly. Smoother than ever…"

"It bothers you that your country is doing well after a crisis situation?"

"It bothers me that it's doing it without me," he says. Forlorn is not a word associated much with my father, especially when it comes to the business of ruling. His approach as a ruler is to project a stern image and back it up with stolid words and decisive actions. Any personal concerns have to be intimated through careful analysis of the few hints that escape the tiny cracks in his persona as king. It's not terribly dissimilar to his style of parenting.

It is, therefore, a revelation on two levels.

And an even stranger turn than talking about Allen. I've given Father advice countless times when I served on the council. Having to give him a…'pep talk'…is a concept I had never conceived until this very second. The surrealism makes it hard to speak with a straight face. "If a solid foundation wasn't there, Meiden and the others wouldn't be doing as well as they are. They are maintaining a status quo, nothing more."

It must strike Father the same way. Amusedly, he says, "Have I fallen so low, I need you to pat me on the back?"

"It's not uncommon for families to support each other."

"Normal families, Eries. We're Astons."

It's the first time I've heard him make a joke that wasn't political or didn't involve bawdy reminiscing of his youth with Meiden Fassa. I like it far more than any of those. "We're not that bad, are we?"

"Can you recall any other time we've talked like this? And I highly doubt this would be taking place if it weren't for all that medicine making light-headed."

"I had suspicions about the effects of your medication myself," I chuckle. "Whatever the cause, it's not a bad thing for you to show vulnerability."

"That's an ironic statement coming from you."

I'm not offended -- he's simply telling the truth -- but Father feels the need to explain himself. "I meant it when I said earlier that I don't now you as well as I would like to. Most of that's my fault. I didn't know what to make of you girls after Therese died. I knew I couldn't replace your mother so I didn't bother being much of a father either. The time-consuming duties of a king make for such a good excuse, too. But --"

"Part of it is my fault." He's being so open now. Responding as the 'Ice Princess' wouldn't just be disrespectful, it could break the tenuous bond we've forged this evening. "I never exactly sought you out or made it easy to approach me. I don't know. I remember doing things as a family when Mother was alive, but afterwards… Marlene was only nine, but she had found enough of herself to get along and whatever was missing, she made up by taking care of Millerna. It wasn't like I was intentionally left out, but it made it easier to pull away."

"Ah, the middle child," he says ruefully. "The neglected child."

"No, not neglected. Just…overlooked now and then." Trying to cheer us both, I add, "What would you know of that sibling dynamic? It was just you and your brother, Nueva."

"Half-brother. That's why he's out of the running for the crown." He nods to reinforce this fact after I express shock. "My father wasn't the most loving man when he was around and when he wasn't around, my mother sought the company of men that were."

"I'm surprised that you can talk about it like that."

"Please, Eries. The things that go on in royal families… My mother was a good woman who deserved happiness and she wasn't getting it in her political marriage. Why do you think I haven't forced you into one?"

"What about Marlene?"

"I didn't force her," he swears. "I pushed her, pushed her hard, but only because I thought it was the only way she would accept the Duke. The man worshipped her."

"And the tract of land Freid ceded to us as part of the marriage arrangements?"

"Was what made me accept the Duke so readily. I don't deny I place a high priority on the welfare of Asturia, but it's not higher than you girls. If Mahad dal Freid had been an ass, I wouldn't have let him have Marlene even if he gave me his whole damn country. And if Marlene was still alive, that Zaibach Strategos would have been shown the door and then every soldier and melef in our army if he had come back."

Such resolve is taxing. He eases back into his bed, too tired to keep talking as we have. He does have one final thing to say, phrasing it as a command instead of a question because he still *is* Grava Aston. "You'll come back tomorrow."

"Of course, Father."

***

I go back the next day as a curious daughter eager to learn more about her father. The day after that, I go as a worried daughter hoping to distract her father. There has yet to be any news of Millerna.

Everyone knows what this likely means but we refuse to say it. When Father asks about her, we pass the responsibility on to someone else to answer. 'I think Meiden might have heard something. I'll have to check.' 'Eries received a letter today. I'll have to check.' None of us must check anything. If we had any information, even the tiniest scrap of gossip, we'd run straight to his room. Bad news would be better than absolute silence.

The wait takes a nasty toll on Father. He's arguing with his doctors over his medication and has fired several of them. He's belligerent towards Meiden and questions every decision he makes about governing the country. When I walk into his room, there's a brief flash of disappointment on his face that the wrong daughter has come to see him. I've increased the frequency of my visits but we talk less and less. The few doctors he still lets see him suggest sedatives. Approval is given immediately.

I wouldn't mind sneaking one of those pills myself. Sleep last night was nonexistent. Breakfast this morning went cold and uneaten while I beat my fork nervously against my plate. If we don't hear from Millerna today…

Meiden gets what would normally be good news, but in the circumstances, reinforces how bleak things are. A lookout reports a sighting of the flagship of his oldest son's fleet over the horizon -- Dryden come to claim a bride who has fallen off the face of Gaea. The old merchant puts it in the most positive light, claiming if the gods found a way to bring Dryden back in a fairly timely manner, surely they can accomplish the lesser miracle of bringing Millerna home safely.

The gods must be on holiday, for no miracles are performed today. I go with Meiden to the dock to greet his son but he isn't on the ship. In his place is his personal assistant, a rat beastman that cowers behind his financial ledgers when Meiden demands to know where his son is. Through much arm-waving and sporadically coherent dialogue, we glean three few precious facts: Millerna is alive, Millerna isn't coming back to Asturia in the near future, Millerna has joined with Fanelia's king and the crew of the Crusade on a search for Atlantis.

"Atlantis!?" Meiden screeches. "Have you lost your mind? Is this a joke of my son's? He's hiding on his ship, waiting to come out and laugh at me for falling for something so stupid!"

Mr. Rat insists it's not a joke. Dryden isn't hiding anywhere and neither is Millerna. The unfortunate man tries to do a disappearing act of his own into his robes because he can sense what's coming next. Someone has to tell this to my father. Two sets of beady eyes focus on me as a nomination.

I go ahead and stupidly volunteer. "I'll tell Father. Please, Mr. Rat, any more information you can give me will be greatly appreciated."

Off the hook, he replies enthusiastically. From his babbling, I pick out something about a Draconian king, an Ispano guymelef factory and the name of a country I desperately did not want to hear -- Zaibach.

***

Telling your father that his baby girl was off looking for a place that may or may not exist with an enemy fleet in close pursuit isn't a task any daughter should ever have to do. Father didn't speak. He didn't ask for me to clarify anything I said. He might have exhaled once during the ordeal. I would have preferred an angry outburst, some form of venting. The quiet internalizing Father did could not have been good for his health.

Gods, it can be atrocious to be right.

A page hunts down on my way to my room to retire for the night. "Your highness, you have to come quickly. It's your father…"

***

Author's Notes: I tried to make my Christmas deadline and I almost did. I came up with how many words I would have to write a day to make a 5000 word chapter by then and followed the guideline obediently. Of course, by the time I had 5000 words, I hadn't actually gotten to the crux of this chapter -- Eries and her father's bonding session. I had to include it and not just because the chapter takes its title from their interaction. Eries has been in such a funk through the first few chapters, she needed something to go right. Getting on better terms with her daddy before he went all blech struck me as a good idea. I like exploring the lesser used characters and finding different ways to interpret them and hardass Grava was an ideal subject for that sort of exploration.

Next up: In Love and the Brink of War. The funk lessens as Eries gets a letter from Milly and works through 'the Allen issue' Alucier. The funk deepens when a certain someone returns to Palas, a lot closer to a Mystic Moon girl than he was when he left.


	5. In Love and the Brink of War Part A

"Always…"

V. In Love and the Brink of War

I wasn't with my mother the day she died. I had been allowed the previous morning to see her. Marlene came with me, her hand bundled with mine sweaty and tight as she told Mother what good girls we were at the blessing ceremony for our new baby sister. Father stood by her bed, a sentinel of stone. I matched his posture because I couldn't see Mother way up high on her bed and under all those blankets and Marlene was squeezing so hard that the tips of my fingers had gone red and numb. I didn't understand why Mother hadn't gotten out of that bed and gone to the ceremony herself. She could have seen the lace on Millerna's little gown and the spring flowers embroidered in gold thread. I didn't question her though. I was six, painfully quiet and wholly unaware of the significance of the visit.

Later, I would begrudge Father for denying me a chance to give her a proper goodbye. He should have explained to me what was happening, what would happen. I shouldn't have spent my last moments with her wishing my sister would let go of my hand. 

I held on to a piece of that resentment until the instant when the doctor pulled back the curtain on Father's bed and I finally comprehended how beneficent those protective measures were. I did not say goodbye to my mother, but I never had the burden of seeing the pale wraith her sickness made her into.

He lies limp, his body arranged in the bed by his physicians in an unnatural pose that is meant to evoke resting but calls to mind instead a more eternal kind of sleep. His eyes are partially open; the lids flutter slightly to reveal unfocused pupils looking at, but not seeing, the canopy above. Ashen flesh on left side of his face slants downward. His cheek molds into his chin, pulling open the corner of his mouth and causing a thick trail of saliva to escape.

I wipe it away with a handkerchief lying on his nightstand. _Idiots. Don't they know how undignified this is for a king?_

"It's not a bad as it looks," the doctor says. He's trying to be kind with his cliché but it strikes me as disrespectful. This is my father. This is the most powerful man in the richest country in the entire world. His well being is not to be trivialized. He is not a lump of flesh to be shoveled into a bed and left to drool by doctors who don't possess the sense to honor his regality.

Gods, it hurts to see him like this.

"We think he had a stroke. We won't be able to tell how severe it was until we've had more time to observe him."

"In other words, you don't know a thing."

"I…" the man stammers. He's caught between professionalism and wounded pride. "I'm sorry, your majesty." To make it look as if he's doing something, he examines my father.

"Pulse… weak, but steady."

"Breathing… shallow, but steady."

It's all the same -- absolutely horrific, but steady.

***

Opening your eyes and finding Meiden Fassa and a pack of doctors hovering around you will jolt you awake faster than a dousing of cold water. One of the doctors states he knew I was just sleeping and his fellows quickly lose interest and return to my father's bedside. Meiden doesn't move.

"Keeping a vigil, your highness?" he asks. 

"Not a particularly vigilant one," I answer. My neck is sore from sleeping upright in a chair. My back doesn't feel any better. I still twist to see what the doctors are doing. "Has he made any improvement?"

He pointedly avoids saying 'yes' or 'no'. "The doctors are looking after him. We'll let you how he's doing. In the meantime, why don't you return to your chambers?"

"I want to stay here." 

"And I understand that sentiment. But…" He takes a look over his shoulder at the gathered doctors. "But," he resumes, "it is in our interest that you appear at your best. I don't think catching naps in a rickety, old chair serves that interest."

The interest he speaks of is not my own personal interest or even his. He speaks of Asturia and its need to have a strong, presentable ruler. I may no longer hold power on the council but I am a figurehead, one more recognizable than any politician. The people were already shaken by Zaibach's presence. Despite an intensive effort to contain them, rumors of Millerna's disappearance spread instantly and have become old news along with the fall of Freid. It's inevitable that Father's illness will be grist for a new round of dire speculation. The last member of the royal family sequestering herself in the palace to mind that illness would only spur darker talk on.

A dutiful daughter or a dutiful princess? I cannot be both. It's a sudden insight into the pressure Father must have felt trying to rule a country and take care of three girls without a wife to aid him. I know what he would do in my situation because I know what he did.

"I understand, Meiden. I'll take my breakfast in the main dining hall. I need to change dresses and send word to my guards, but I'll be there within the hour. Is there anything else you wish to discuss?"

Pleased, Meiden shakes his head. "Not at present. Though I do have something my son's assistant gave to me to give to you. He hadn't unpacked it yet last night when you talked to him."

From his robe, he pulls out an envelope. The paper is coarse and heavy, nothing like the bright linen stationary Asturian nobles use. Marlene used to send me letters in similar envelopes from Freid after she ran out of the supply she took with her. My breath catches at the thought that this might be correspondence from my other sister. Eager to open it, I instruct Meiden to keep me aware of any changes in Father's status, no matter how minor, the second they occur and I take my leave.

I don't look back because to do so once would make it impossible to look forward again.

***

I hate it when someone reads over my shoulder. Revius is reminded of this when my foot intersects with his shin. "Sit. Eat. Drink. Be merry," I command. "But do not read."

He makes a show of limping over to his seat. "I thought you said this was good news."

"It is… basically. It is also a private letter." I don't really need to shoo him away. I've already told both him and Alucier what the gist of the letter is and who it is from. Since it contained just a few scrawled out sentences, it didn't take long. When Revius interrupted me, I was on my sixth time through.

Alucier is as curious as Revius, but he approaches with more tact. "So she said something more than she's okay and that she's going to Atlantis?"

That's the summary I gave them; he's fishing for details beyond that. It's the same as what I'm doing with my repeated readings.

__

Eries,

Please don't worry about me. I know you and Father must have heard by now what happened in Freid, but I was never near any combat. I was torn between leaving and staying with Chid but he's such a brave little boy and in better hands than mine. We need to talk when I return, about Chid and Marlene. Father will be pleased to know I've met Dryden. He's going to guide us to Atlantis. I'm not sure what we will find or when we will be back, but I feel as if I must go. It could be dangerous and there might be a need for my medical skills again. Tell Father I love him and know that I love you as well.

She signed it with the same signature she's had since a child -- the double 'l' forming wide loops and the tail of the 'a' curving over the last syllable -- but it didn't seem like the same Millerna was writing to me. I could find her in the assumption that the worse thing that Father and I have endured is excessive worrying. In the rest of the letter though… 

There is humility and a bit of insight into a world larger than her own interests. I've become well acquainted with the juvenile ways my sister handles situations that don't suit her and at the time of her departure, nothing suited her less than her engagement to Dryden. Simply writing his name and acknowledging Father's wishes are good signs that she's taking it seriously.

Her comments about Chid strike me. I can only guess that the part about him and Marlene indicates that she's now aware of the boy's paternity. As Father said, with Chid's strong resemblance to Allen, it's fairly obvious to the person who's willing to make the connection, but Millerna's idolatrous crush precludes such a hard conclusion. What could have happened in Freid to force her to realize the truth, if in fact, she has? I'll have to wait to know. I will know, though. She wants to talk to me about it. That's more surprising to me than her discovery about Chid. We so rarely exchanged sisterly confidences as children. We would complain about our attendants and make jokes about some of the nobles, but nothing more serious than that. As adults, the only thing traded between us has been hostilities.

Those seem to have come to a close with this letter. _Tell Father I love him and know that I love you as well_. Signing your name with love is almost a reflex in familial communications. Truly meaning what you've written is rather different. I can't quantify it. It's not in the strict definition of the words or the way she's ordered them, but that emotion is there, mixed into the ink and parchment.

Notable in its absence, is any mention of Allen. I wonder how much this conspicuous omission relates to everything else. I was there for the start of Marlene and Allen's relationship. I gave approval of it by default when I kept my objections to myself. And though I understood it, though I was a loyal sister and friend to the both of them, it took a great deal of time until I was able to accept the actions that led to Chid's birth. The same revelation to a wholly unsuspecting Millerna might have been a blow strong enough to disenchant her of her romantic notions of a future with Allen.

Or perhaps she only left out Allen because she knew it would upset me otherwise. Frankly, most of my interpretations could be a case of reading what I want to read. I don't know what happened to her after she left. I can't truly tell what my sister is thinking. I'm fairly sure of my speculations, but not certain.

There is one thing I refuse to doubt. Millerna found something in Freid, something that has changed her, presumably matured her. I must pray that whatever it was, it will help her find her way back home.

***

The industry of hearsay continues to churn in Palas. The high drama of recent events has created an endless supply of conversation. According to Meiden Fassa, the council is focusing on the impact Zaibach's activities have had on trade. That's the only context in which they speak openly of that country. Since their destruction in Freid, they've been quiet. Zaibach got what they wanted and seem to be content not to take anything more. With no real evidence that they went after Millerna, our treaties remain intact and Asturia will not be making any challenges to them. There is still a heightened military presence in the capital and our outposts are on alert, but we will not be the ones that move first. It may be cowardly, but it is also cautious and prudent. 

According to Alucier and Revius, the talk in the taverns is less concerned with Zaibach than with my family. My father has suffered through everything from a mild cold to an assassination attempt. A few conspiracy theorists insist that he's already dead and the council is running some kind of shadow government. Millerna disappeared because she refused to go along with it and had to be silenced. I know that the two of them tell me these things because they think they'll amuse me, but Father's condition is such that it might be only a matter of time before the theorists have a few of their predictions come true.

I visit him three times a day -- first thing in the morning, mid-day and the last thing at night. Each visit has become a routine. I ask the doctor on duty if there has been any improvement, he tells me no and then I pull a chair up to Father's bed and talk at him for an hour or so. It's never much longer than an hour. I have a public presence to maintain, parties to not enjoy and people to pretend I'm happy to see. I feel guilty for having to leave his side, but also a twinge of relief that I don't have endure that awful silence punctuated with thin, wet breaths for any longer. That, of course, makes the guilt even stronger.

It's not made easier by my behavior being the main topic of conversation around the palace. Everyone has a comment to make on the Ice Princess' sudden sociability over the past few weeks. Some are good. Some are bad. Annoyingly, and quite stupidly, a lot of them are spoken within my proximity.

__

Oh, look! Her majesty comes down from her pedestal!

Well, someone from the royal family has to keep appearances up and there's no one else to do it.

If my father were sick, I wouldn't dress up and go to a fancy dinner.

Your father isn't the king. You wouldn't have to.

The least she could do is show a little concern.

I can't imagine what they feel free to say when I am nowhere around at all. Even though I am doing this for the people's benefit, I've grown catty enough to take note of which ones support me and which ones don't. I don't bother to adjust my performance to accommodate any of them. It's been difficult as it is putting aside my natural introversion; I'll not dance to the tune of public opinion. No matter what I do anyway, there will be someone who finds fault with it. As the adage goes, you can't please everyone all the time. And you can't hurl sharp objects at the naysayers. That would be most unprincesslike behavior.

The guard of a princess might be able to get away with it. Revius carries around a set of throwing knives on him at all times. Jichia only knows where he keeps them, but the next time I overhear some noble condemn me for putting the good of my country above my own interests, it would relieve a good deal of stress to find out. He'd do it, too.

That's my solace. In a time of political and personal upheaval, I still have friends to rely on. It's not conventional for a princess to have knights as her confidants, but I have no complaints about the arrangement. I'd much rather have to listen to exaggerated stories about duels and melef battles than have to suffer through an analysis of the newest fashions coming in from Egzardia. 

Not all women prescribe to such banalities. Neither I nor my sisters truly did no matter how much we dressed up and played the part. We're nothing though, Alucier claims, in comparison to his sister, Damise. The oldest of his six sisters, she took over the family's farms when their parents retired to enjoy their wealth. Alucier is down at the docks now to meet her leviship as she comes into Palas for business. With the razing of most of Fanelia's land and an influx of its refugees needing food and shelter, Damise is in an excellent position to strike many favorable deals. Her hometown of Dunhaven contains some of Asturia's most fertile soil and the Maerzen name is firmly stamped on the deeds to the majority of that land.

I'm not sure what to expect of the woman. Running a large, and more importantly successful, farm system would require many of the same skills used to run the country. Knowing Alucier as well as I do, I can't picture any member of his family being anything like the politicians I used to deal with. He's always treated me as a sister; perhaps I'll find a kindred spirit when I join them for dinner tonight. Whatever she's like, she'll be a much-needed reprieve from the company the new, accessible Princess Eries has been forced to keep.

Arrangements have been made to give me the night off. Officially, I'm using the time to rest up from the market tour I did this morning. Unofficially, I'm walking out of this palace in a plain, blue commoner's sundress (purchased at the end of tour) and going to Tuvello's (pointed out by a guide as one of the 'rougher' taverns at night in central Palas despite its history with the Caeli during the middle of the tour). All of my jewelry is stored in my dresser, to help with the illusion of being a commoner and to ensure that I'll still have it in the morning. I'm not going unescorted, but Alucier and Revius' accounts of Tuvello's nightlife don't contradict the tour guide's.

When Revius meets me at my door, he does a poor job of suppressing his amusement with my attire. "Such a risqué dress, your highness. You're showing forearm and everything."

"It's hard to take offense at that considering it's coming from someone who wouldn't own any proper clothes at all if not for his military uniforms." 

Revius doesn't answer. He's knows I've been looking forward to spending the next few hours free of any stress. Giving me an easy win is a nice start. He's not in any position to argue either. Foregoing his Caeli uniform so as not to draw attention, he's dressed in a tunic two sizes too large for him and pants that look like they should have been thrown out or handed over to a talented seamstress months ago.

He notices my disapproval. "This is a very fashionable look, you know."

"Yes, I can see how torn, ratty pants would be all the rage."

"Don't be so consumed with appearances, Eries. Everyone knows it's what's inside that counts."

I don't know how to return that shot. With the score tied, two commoners leave for a bar.

***

Tuvello's is full by the time we get there. No one pays me any mind, but several of the barmaids call out to Revius. They should know him well as he and Alucier share the apartment directly above, but a very friendly blond girl named Jisette has me doubting that real estate is the sole source of her familiarity with him. I also discovered the benefits of a loose tunic on a man when confronted by an attractive woman with idle hands.

I nearly run to their table when I spot Alucier and his sister. They were easy to pick out. Damise's hair was a darker brown than her brother's, but height and grey eyes with poor vision run in the family. You couldn't mistake them for anything but siblings.

Visually and in their attitudes. Damise's first words to me were, "I can't imagine why you were in such a hurry to get away from all the inappropriate touching."

Alucier skips the introductions, figuring they're unnecessary. Damise, however, would like to see things done properly, or least she acts like does to embarrass her little brother.

"All right, all right," he says testily. It's satisfying to see him on the receiving end of teasing that's usually turned on me. "Damise Maerzen, this is her highness, the second princess of Asturia, Eries Aria Aston. Your majesty, this is my sister, Damise. She has no titles except for the nicknames the farmhands give her and I cannot repeat those in royal company."

"Oh, really?" Damise sniffs in offense. "You should watch how you speak, dear brother, or I might have to resort to telling your lady liege some of the games you used to play with the farm animals."

Alucier swallows his drink hard and then the two are deep into a verbal sparring match. It's amazing to watch. They let the crafted insults fly, carefully keeping them within an unspoken boundary, and take as much delight in taking as in giving, like two professionals admiring each other's trade. I can't help but feel partly envious. Even if we had ever felt at ease enough to make rough jokes about one another, my sisters and I would have been scolded fiercely on if we were caught. Proper, dignified girls respect their family, or so we were told.

I wonder if the etiquette that taught us how to politely interact with officials also effected how we dealt with each other. Alucier and Damise don't waste time formally calling each other 'Brother' or 'Sister' as they exchange compliments on the cleverness of their latest affronts. They don't need the reminder of the titles.

Revius, disentangled from the barmaid but not unmarked by the encounter, joins us at the table. Damise lets Alucier have the first comment but outdoes him by not teasing Revius at all. Instead, she uses it as an introduction to a little round of flirting that escalates into a full match by the time the appetizers arrive. Alucier slides over to my side of the table, letting sister and friend have their privacy and preventing me from overhearing the racier dialogue. 

"You didn't want to hear any of that?" he asks. 

"No! Of course not!" I say, too quickly. "Anyway, she's just doing it to get a rise out of you, isn't she?"

"I don't know," he considers. "He is her type. Fun, good looking and gone in the morning."

I use a napkin to conceal the blush that's searing my cheeks. You can take a princess away from propriety, but alas, propriety refuses to be taken away from a princess. 

Alucier picks up on my embarrassment and apologizes. "Why don't we leave these two alone and have a less exciting dinner up at the flat?"

I protest that he shouldn't leave his sister for me, but Damise and Revius don't even notice when the waitress packs up our food to take with us. They wave goodbye but it looks more like they're waving us out the door.

"You don't really think Damise is going to… that she's really interested in Revius?" I ask again when we're outside.

"Oh, I think she's definitely interested," he says without any worry. "And if she wasn't my sister and he wasn't my friend, who knows what they'd do. But they are, so I don't think they'll do anything at all. Except maybe pretend that they did something so they can jerk me around tomorrow morning."

"They're all so casual…" I whisper to myself.

He's apologizing again for bringing up the topic but that wasn't quite what I meant. "No, Alucier, it's not… that. I was thinking of your relationship with your sister. The fact that you can acknowledge her as a woman entitled to do as she pleases, even if it's something most people don't approve of, is…" I want to say remarkable. "It's not at all like it was between my sisters and I."

"Don't think me that enlightened," he sighs. "Truth is, I don't have much choice in the matter. Damise has always been a very straightforward, opinionated person. She's doesn't mince words because they might make others squeamish, even if it's her brother, whom she likes to point out, is five years younger than she is and not exactly an innocent lamb himself." Through venting, he returns to being mindful of my earlier discomfort. "But that's not relevant to anything," he coughs. "Say, what did you think of Lord and Lady Carrolle's party last night?"

"I thought it was boring and had nothing to do with what we were discussing. You shocked me a bit in the bar, but that was it. You don't have to worry about offending my sensibilities. It's probably good to get a shock to those every now and then. And I'm not stupid. I know what you and Revius are talking about at breakfast when you use all those cute euphemisms. It's not like I'm…" Well, I am a virgin, but despite my insistence on openness, I'm not about to unfurl that banner tonight. That status is not entirely by my choice anyway. "…completely unknowledgeable."

"And this would be where thinking of you like a little sister becomes a liability. If I don't like hearing this stuff from Damise and she's my older sister…"

"Yes, but siblings should be there for one another, even to talk about things they'd rather not talk about." It's such a basic premise, yet one that's eluded me where Millerna's concerned. I realized that the night she left for Freid. Tonight, I've seen the proof that it's more than just a nice ideal.

Neither of us says anything more as we go up the steps towards the flat. Alucier fiddles with the door lock and juggles two full plates of food. I take in the night air. It's a lovely evening. The Mystic Moon has retained its unusual brightness so it's light enough to see even without the torches that line the stairway. As midsummer approaches, the heat's been rising steadily but a change of winds yesterday is bringing a cool breeze from off the ocean. The palace is built back from the coast, up on a hill. It's refreshing to be so near the water at night for a change. It would be a shame to go inside.

"I don't suppose Tuvello's has any outdoor tables hidden away, do they?"

"No," Alucier answers. "But we could use the roof. We keep some chairs and a table up there. The access stairs are in the spare bedroom."

"The one that Damise is using? I hope she and Revius don't come back early and we have to stay on the roof all night," I joke.

"Eh, that's the risk I used to take all the time when Allen lived here."

I don't laugh, but I smile so that Alucier won't have to worry about offending me for a third time tonight. Allen lived in this apartment for four years. I visited him here often during the day then. I'm not so bitter that I can't hold happy memories of that time. Those were the closest years of our friendship. But as Alucier opens the latch to bring down the stairs, I stare out into the main room and remember the worst visit, on the only night I've ever been here.

I had come to tell him that Marlene was pregnant, to deliver the news that I knew would sadden him, but I thought would set him free. She had moved on; it was his turn to do the same. It wasn't that simple. I didn't understand his reaction. I couldn't understand. Back then, I was naïve enough to believe in the purity of romance. Desire was kept in check by fantasies until released by marriage vows. So when he told me he thought the baby could be his, I stared at him like a fool. Then realization broke with a slap across the face of my best friend and that innocence was gone forever. The only thing worse than knowing that my sister had possessed Allen's body along with his heart was confronting the fact that our desires were not dissimilar.

That was so long ago, but he circle has looped back over itself. Like Alucier and Damise, I don't really want to know if Millerna's considerations of Allen go beyond pristine courtly romance, but here I am with another sister placing herself in the hands of the man I loved.

Loved. I must congratulate myself on getting the tense right. I have a habit of forgetting.

The bottom of the stairs thumps loudly on the floor. "Eries? Food. Getting cold. Well, lukewarm."

"Sorry, I don't mean to ignore you. I was just…"

"Admiring the furniture? Someday, I'll have to give that couch of Revius' a proper burial."

"Reminiscing."

"Reflecting," Alucier states more accurately. "Reminiscing implies good times and you've got that Allen look in your eye."

People can know you too well. Most everyone else finds my measured expressions to be inscrutable, which is the way I prefer it. But years of experience have trained Alucier to pick out the subtle mannerisms that I don't manage to control. For instance, he pointed out to me once that when annoyed, I bring the tips of my thumb and index finger together on my left hand. I thought it was nonsense but then I caught myself making the gesture four times during the council meeting the next day. 

So if he says I have an 'Allen look', I must have one. He laughs at me when I ask him what it is and waits until he's on the roof to reveal the secret. "You're eyes were open."

"I'll have you know," I shout up to him. It's not an effective way to yell at someone so I climb the ladder. "I'll have you know," I repeat, "that even though I was thinking of him, it was entirely within the context of being in my past."

"Good for you," he says quietly.

The table is close to the edge of the roof on the end facing the ocean. The noise from the street prevents from hearing the waves, but I can see them for miles. The hypnotic rhythm of the walls of water breaking on the beach and their recession back to the ocean dulls dinner conversation. I normally wouldn't mind but what Alucier said is bothering me. He seldom tells a joke without there being a ring of truth behind it.

"So what was I doing?" I question him. "Raising an eyebrow? Tilting my head just so?"

He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, a sign that I might not like to hear what he's about to say. "You were staring at the apartment in complete obliviousness. I said your name more than once, you know. Now, our décor is not that fascinating and I can't recall anything that happened between you and me or you and Revius that was that profound."

"It wasn't something that I did?"

"It's something that you've been doing since you were fifteen."

I could answer with a list of the things I have done to forget Allen. I could present all the small pieces of evidence that prove I'm no longer in love with him. It would be easy; I've been collecting and cataloguing each scrap since the moment I told Allen I couldn't handle being his crutch any longer.

Instead, I fall back on excuses. "There's a lot of history between us. Some of it took place in this apartment. It's natural to be reminded of it when I come here."

"To be reminded, yes. But to lose yourself in a memory?"

"Pardon me for waxing melancholic at such a joyful time in my life. With my sister missing, my father possibly dying, my brother-in-law already dead and my nephew an orphan, I should be dancing in the streets. Not too loudly, mind you, because Zaibach might not like the noise and forget the 'do not destroy' clause in our treaties."

Alucier swirls his last piece of steak around in a pool of sauce. "This really was a lovely dinner, wasn't it?" He doesn't address my outburst because everyone knows what a harsh overreaction is a sign of.

He's been bringing this topic up on and off during the entire six weeks since Allen left Palas. I've ignored his both subtle and flagrant hints but it's clear I was only winning small battles, not the war. He won't be dropping this anytime soon. 

"What do you want to hear from me, Alucier? I've told you everything. If there are some magic words that will get you to leave me alone, please tell me because rehashing my history with Allen isn't something I particularly enjoy doing."

I think I've made my point. He finishes the remnants of his meal and gathers up the dishes. While wiping the table, he starts in on me again. "Do you have any idea how frustrating you are? I can get bits and pieces out you, mostly you swearing that you're fine. I'm used to my sisters, who never shut up about how they're feeling. Any time any one of them broke up with a boyfriend, they would gather around and pour over every piece of minutia in that relationship. Then there's Damise who likes to torture me with her stories about the worthless men she's been with. I may complain about having to listen to all that, but at least they're willing to be completely open about how hurt they were."

"There's a difference," I argue. "I loved Allen, but I never had him to lose him."

"A technicality. He was a huge part of your life that's not there anymore."

"By my own choice…"

"And you don't want him back?"

"No," I say forcefully. "Not with things as they are. I do miss him, but it would hurt more to stand by him and watch him make the same mistakes over and over again, knowing that he could do and be so much more if he just let go of his pain. Doesn't it hurt you when you see Damise contenting herself with flings with like Revius instead of finding someone she could be truly happy with?"

"Believe me, Revius is the nicest guy she's been around in years. My parents would be thrilled if she brought him home compared to the others."

"I wasn't asking about Revius' qualifications as a suitor."

"I wish for something better for her," he admits. "But she's my sister. I love her and I will stand by her no matter what she does."

Allen indirectly accused me of abandoning him; it's not intentional, but Alucier sounds as if he's implying the same. "Yes, she is your sister. You have to stand by your family, no matter how much you disagree with them. But…"

"I didn't mean that you were wrong to walk away from Allen. There are different standards for friends and lovers versus family." He can't resist one small joke though. "Then again, you did let Princess Millerna go to Freid…"

I take the lightened mood and run with it. "Thinking of shipping Damise off? The northern region is wonderful this time of year. It's much cooler up there in the mountains."

"But then Mom and Dad would probably want me to do something with the other five…"

"They can't be as bad as my one."

"Care to make a wager? Besides, I know you'll welcome Millerna back with open arms when she finally does return."

"Of course I would. What did I just tell you about family?"

"My apologies," he says. "But if it's different for friends, does that mean I can run away when you start complaining about her chasing after Allen?"

"But you'd still be my guard. You took an oath. I could whine all day if I wanted and you couldn't do a thing."

"I haven't in the past."

For that, I let him finish with the dishes. I'll have to go back to the palace in a little while anyway; a few more minutes of night air will help me clear my thoughts before resuming my duties. 

I need for Millerna to return, whether I wrong about what I read in her letter or not. If only I could know when she'll be back. I can't plot a course between Freid and Atlantis and then to Asturia. It could be months until I see her again.

Although out of practice, I offer a prayer to Jichia that they wait will not be long. For added measure, I look to the stars. An old wives tale has it that when the Mystic Moon hangs low in the sky just over the horizon, you can ask the gods for one favor and it will be granted. It's in the same spot it's always in but I close my eyes and make a wordless request to whoever might be on the moon to listen.

When I look at the moon again, something is silhouetted against its light. It's far too large to be a bird…

"What the hell is that?" Alucier asks, spotting it too.

It flies closer, still unidentifiable but squinting, I can make out a shape.

It looks like a dragon.

***

Author's Notes: I know I promised a semi-reunion between Allen and Eries but I was getting sick of looking at this boring transition chapter so I moved it into the next one. Plus, I think Eries' meeting with the new, improved (now featuring maturity!) Millerna will serve as a nice parallel to her meeting of the newer, improving (now featuring less anger!) Allen.

Next up: Five chapters down, four to go as we return to on camera series events -- One Wedding and Considerably More Than Four Funerals. (To answer Ron and his Sakura's question, yes, the last chapter was named after 'The Handmaid's Tale'. All the chapters in this story are named after either a book or movie -- as I think became really obvious with the title for the next chapter.)


	6. In Love and the Brink of War Part B

I'm splitting up chapters again… or in this case, putting back parts that I planned on having in Chapter 5 to begin with. These sections went on a lot longer than I thought they would (everybody pretend to be surprised) and I had a choice of either sticking them back into Chapter 5 or having Chapter 6 be an unwieldy behemoth that covered too much and went on for too long. Not that hard of a choice really.

"Always…"

V - Part B: In Love and the Brink of War

The last thing I intended to do tonight was to greet a foreign dignitary entering my country, but here I am, running like an excited child back to the palace grounds to intercept the king of Fanelia and his guests. It was a shock seeing the dragon shape appear in the sky. Discovering that it was flying guymelef was ever more of one. Then I saw the guymelef's passengers.

It soared overhead and had barely cleared the canal separating the residential district from the market when Alucier and I came to the same conclusion. We had to go to the palace. Though the melef was flying towards the field on the outskirts of town that the stable hands use to train horses, we knew where the three people on board would eventually head. In addition to the king and the alleged handmaiden, Hitomi Kanzaki, the third passenger was Allen. It's his duty to report to his superiors upon any visit to the capital and duty is a reliable comfort for Allen, an easy path to follow when everything else has become difficult.

I can't imagine the circumstances that have brought him back to Palas in such an unusual way but I doubt they involve anything simple. This will be a long night of stories and explanations. Foremost among the ones I want to hear is why the Crusade has apparently not returned along with them.

Formal greetings be damned, the first words out of my mouth will be 'where is my sister?'. If I can make it to the palace in one piece, that is. Alucier and Revius have to slow their pace to keep from leaving me behind. Swordsmen who train vigorously every day have endurance level that readily outclasses that of a princess, especially when that princess seems to have no stamina to speak of. When we finally reach the main courtyard, I have to pause in front of the fountain to wash away some of the perspiration that's making my sundress stick to my skin. Knowing that other people also use this fountain for impromptu cleanings is the only thing that keeps me from taking in deep drafts of the water. I need to sit down, have something to drink and rest enough so that I don't have to pant for air.

I haven't the time. Coming from the opposite end of the courtyard are the very three people I need to meet. They walk in silence, the king slouching and joining Allen in a careful observation of the ground. Only Hitomi is looking up and aware that they are not alone. She says a few words to get her male companions to notice too. Their shuffled steps indicate they are surprised to see me.

Whether it's simply because I am here or because I look as I do, I don't know. I must be a sight. Sweating, breathing heavily and dressed in the plain clothes of a commoner, I'm a far cry from the refinement I normally present myself with. Fortunately, Fanel isn't one for formalities. In fact, Allen, being the sole Caeli here in uniform, is the one who seems out of place. To an outsider, the lot of us must look like a group of friends out for a stroll after a hard day's work.

But we're not. Collectively we are a king, a princess, three knights and an enigmatic girl with important business to discuss. I don't start things out exactly as planned, but the meaning is the same. "Is the Crusade close behind you? When will they be returning? Will Millerna be on it?"

Fanel goes back to staring, this time at the palace wall. Hitomi starts to speak, but Allen intercedes. "I'm sorry, Princess," he says, as more than cooling sweat causes bumps to form along my arms. "But we were separated from them after we returned from Atlantis. We were able to return as quickly as we did through… unconventional means... but it will probably be a few weeks before the Crusade arrives. I am sure they are on their way back though. My second-in-command knows his first priority is to protect Princess Millerna and Lord Dryden."

Behind me, Revius and Alucier whisper back and forth about Atlantis. Allen would not lie about the place that lured his father from him, so it must still exist and they must have gone there. The implications of Leon Schezar's fantasy being made very real are immense from many perspectives. Immediately, I think of what it means to Allen, that if having his father's quest validated has changed his feelings towards him. I can't discern anything from how Allen said 'Atlantis'; he's hiding behind propriety. The middle of a public courtyard is not the right place to explore the issue either.

Damn it. Why do I even want to explore it? Less than an hour ago, I vowed to Alucier that Allen was in my past and I wasn't the least bit interested in working through his lengthy list of problems for him. You can hardly call something a vow when it crumbles almost instantly upon being challenged. Angry with myself, I ask again about the person I should be concerned with. "Millerna is all right then? She was safe the last time you saw her?"

"She is under the protection of my men," Allen answers plainly. As bedraggled as some of them were, I feel I can trust his judgment of their capabilities.

Hitomi wants to offer more reassurance. "I'm sure Millerna wants to get home as soon as possible. Until then, Gaddes and the others will take care of her. And Dryden too. I know he won't let anything happen to her."

Interesting. Facing what could be construed as an interrogation of sorts, the girl's instinct is to offer compassion. More interestingly, she glances sidelong at Allen after mentioning Dryden in connection to Millerna. I knew she had a crush on Allen from the way she acted at that dinner, but the look is less about adoration than concern.

What else beside his father's dream did Allen find on his journey?

I've found out what I wanted to know most. Millerna's fine and coming home. The rest of the story about Atlantis can wait until tomorrow. I don't want to spend the rest of the night lapsing into bad habits. 

Alucier has to go back to Tuvello's to let Damise know what happened. We did pull Revius away from her with the barest of exposition. My room's a short walk away and I have no need of a guard so I direct Revius to attend to our guests.

"You sure?" he asks. "I could get one of the guards on duty down here to escort you back or take care of these three."

"I can make it to my room alone, thank you, and one of our guests is royalty," I tell him. "Though not dressed appropriately, you should be the one to escort them."

"Oh," Hitomi chirps. "Are you the palace steward?"

"He's actually a Knight Caeli," Allen informs her, the corner of his mouth twitching in a surprising, ever so slightly perceptible show of amusement. "He's in charge of the palace guard."

"Really?!" This comes from both Hitomi and Fanel. It's the first thing he's said, adding more sting to the semi-insult.

"I clean up real good," Revius insists. The man is impossible to truly offend. People are one of three things to him: friends and family that he knows are only kidding, strangers whose opinions are taken with a dose of skepticism and people whom he dislikes and whose opinions are taken as a dose of garbage.

It's an overly simplistic way to organize individuals but he swears by it. I guess it does make it easy for someone to know where he or she stands with another. Given how relationships can twist and turn and change from amicability to antipathy and back again, it's a good and rare thing to know.

***

Breakfast with the Caeli is a sparse event this morning. The old standards -- Alucier, Revius and Seclas -- are gone; I'm eating alone with Damise. If it weren't for her enthusiasm for eating in the royal palace with genuine royal silverware, I might have left too. A mechanical dragon flying low over the city garners attention and there's not a soul in Palas that isn't talking about it. Most are just guessing wildly, but eleven Caeli are in a meeting getting the truth from the twelfth. After that, Lord Ramkin will take Allen to the council chambers for a retelling. We can't require him to do it, but the king of Fanelia has been asked to participate in that session. Hitomi Kanzaki, for being female and not the heir to the throne of any country, has not received a similar invitation. The girl knows as much as Allen and Fanel, but a silly technicality like that won't stop the council from excluding her.

"I'm afraid I'm not doing much to dispel the stereotype of farmers being unsophisticated, am I?" Damise sighs. She's watching her reflection in her juice glass.

"Well, you've haven't said anything about 'us fancy city folk'." 

"Heh, you should have heard us tease Luc like that when he first moved here. And every time he came home thereafter," she laughs. "Seriously, though, I'm not usually a giddy little twit. As rich as my family is, this really is like a whole other world. Back in Dunhaven, we have a huge house, nice furniture and all the amenities, but this… " She nods at a crystal decanter with the Aston family crest sculpted in a pattern around the base. "This is on a different level."

"You would acclimate to it in time."

"No offense," she says, "But I don't know if I would want to. The nice things I could get used to, but the entanglements that come with them are different. I mean, doesn't it bother you that you had to sneak out of your own palace last night to go a bar? That my brother follows you around all the time in case someone wants to kill you?"

"That I don't mind. The part about Alucier, not the killing," I amend. "It's a tradeoff. With luxury comes duty. That's something I've tried to ingrain upon my sister."

"Duty. Feh. Which reminds, I have an appointment at the Casein Consortium in an hour. Of course, the directions Alucier gave me were from Tuvello's, not here."

"Don't worry." I motion to the balcony. "You can see it, and the streets that lead to it, from there. It's the building with the arched roof. The striping on the side is done in dark green."

Damise finds the Consortium building right away, but continues to scan the skyline. The third floor of the palace offers a magnificent view. "Is there anything you can't see from here? Oh. My. Apparently not."

She waves me over, giggling all the while. It's obvious what got her attention. Hitomi isn't wasting her morning brooding about not be asked to address the council. She's out in the sun. All out. Her shirt isn't bad, merely a loose, white tunic but the breeches that she is wearing… They're shorter than that skirt of hers! She props her left leg on the rim of a fountain and bends her knee forward until she's able to put her hands by her foot. Every male in the crowd takes a second and third look at her.

"I don't know where that girl is from but I'll take a gamble that their fashion standards differ greatly from every other place on Gaea," Damise comments. "Somebody ought to point her towards a clothing merchant."

It's not the most revealing outfit I've encountered. I've seen Princess Marqesita of Egzardia wear things that put those short pants to shame. But that was in her native country. When she came to Asturia, she made sure to tone down her clothing to something passably decent.

Damise is right. Someone should take her aside. Hitomi was kind to me last night; I should return the favor. Perhaps I could ask her more about Millerna too. I make a mental note to have dinner with her. By then, I'll have found out what Allen had to say to his fellow Caeli and possibly how things went with the council.

It should be an intriguing day.

***

I am going to invite an inhabitant of the Mystic Moon to dinner. I repeat this to myself several times to get accustomed to the idea. Throughout history, there have been reports of visitors from there coming to different parts of Gaea, but most, if not all, of them have been discounted as hoaxes. How could someone possibly travel from a place up within the heavens?

Somehow, Hitomi Kanzaki did. That was what Allen told the Caeli and it was reluctantly confirmed later by Fanel. I can well imagine the gasps of shock that induced in addition to the ones that followed when they revealed that Zaibach's leader, Emperor Dornkirk, also originated from the Mystic Moon. The councilman I spoke to, Lord Poniard, downplayed the drama, but I know how those men are. They get worked into a frenzy reviewing tax law; this must have sent them reeling.

The account of the Caeli conference given to me was much more honest, if not disjointed. Alucier went over what Allen said as Damise told Revius all about the outfit Hitomi wore this morning. So while one knight was trying to be serious, the other was joking that he was born in the wrong place because Mystic Moon men clearly have it better than he does. Another reason for the disjointed nature was Allen's story itself. He described in detail the fall of Freid, their eventual escape from that country and the well-timed appearance of Dryden. From there, his details turned elusive. Dryden guided them to Atlantis as we already knew, but as to what he used to do that was unclear. Allen said he used 'a book' but didn't name the author or how this book was acquired. He said they went to Atlantis, but did not say what occurred while they were there. His account sounded as if they just passed through the legendary site. Once Allen, Fanel and Hitomi were transported (something Allen was asked to explain, but after several attempts to clarify what he meant by 'beam of light' left the council more confused, the matter was dropped) to Zaibach, the details appeared again. The most important thing Alucier took from Allen's report was an emphasis on the danger that Zaibach represented. Revius agreed and added that this was the general consensus among the other Caeli. At the end, Lord Ramkin asked questions about Millerna and Dryden and mentioned the treason charges that had been filed against Allen. But these were ultimately issues for the council, not mere soldiers no matter how lofty the rank, to decide. The conference concluded without a single resolution made.

Which only made it more frustrating when I couldn't get the full story from Lord Poniard. It figures. At the time when the council meetings are at their most interesting and important, I am excluded.

I hope to compensate for some of that with tonight's dinner. Hitomi seems to be an open person; I doubt I'll have much trouble getting her to elucidate on her side of the story. I could always order extra vino, if not.

The door is ajar when I arrive at her room and I can hear her asking someone how the council meeting went. I assume she's with Fanel but the man that answers is not the king. Allen tells her things went as he expected they would.

It's improper at best to linger outside a door and eavesdrop. At worst, it's disrespectful. But this wouldn't be the first time I will have done it and I feel compelled to stay. I'm eager to hear more about the council meeting but in a tight space in my chest, I want to also know how much meaning there was in that look Hitomi gave Allen last night.

On principle, I shouldn't be here. For my own welfare, I shouldn't be here. I should purge this curiosity from my mind and live up to the pledges I have made to myself and others. With a sickening certainty, I know that a woman who no longer has feelings for a man would not spy on him while he talked to another woman. Yet my feet will not take my away. I sidle closer to the door and listen shamefully.

__

"Did they ask you a lot of questions about Atlantis?"

"A few. They wanted to know if we found anything there that would useful to Asturia and if we could find our way there again if that was the case."

"Well, I doubt Dryden would discard your father's journal."

Leon Schezar's journal? Allen told me once about it, how it was written in a foreign language that he hadn't bothered to get translated. I thought it peculiar that he kept it with him considering how often he claimed to hate his father.

__

"I didn't tell them about that. I said Dryden used a book as a guide. That was it."

"I understand. You're not quite ready to talk about him yet, especially to a bunch of officials."

"I… I don't know. I spent most of life hating him… To see him again…"

Dear Gods. He saw his father in Atlantis? How could that be? Has he been living there all along?

__

"It's okay, Allen. You've been carrying around that anger for so long, I think it could be hard to let go. But what he said to you…"

"I know. I just need to think about it more."

"If you ever need to talk to someone about it, just ask."

"Thank you, Hitomi. I do feel like I could tell you anything."

'I do feel like I could tell you anything'?! He's not even changing his lines. But then, it has been years since he said those words to me. Perhaps he's forgotten. Perhaps he doesn't care.

Or… he's only telling her the truth. Hitomi was being sympathetic, helpful. It's clear that Allen has already explained many things to her, the personal tragedies to which only a chosen few have been told in their entirety. She hasn't betrayed that trust and she won't. Even clearer than that, she cares for him. Not the glamorous knight that she watched with a drunken gaze of adoration, but Allen, as he is.

It's understandable that he would use the same phrase with her as he did me. She has filled the role that I vacated. She is his confidant now and in assuming the duty; I wonder if she has the same underlying motivations that kept me by his side. A giddy crush that has turned into a deep friendship that holds the hope of something more -- familiar territory to me, but Hitomi is the one traversing it.

Be cautious, girl. It's too easy to get lost.

***

I never did have that dinner with Hitomi. A coalition of amused handmaidens eliminated the need for it by presenting her with a collection of dresses Millerna had grown tired of. Hitomi must have shared my sister's impression of the gowns for she never wore a one. Whenever she ventured from her room, it was either in the short skirt or the shorter breeches. All earnestness herself, Hitomi seemed unaware that the stares she received weren't just about her odd clothes but also, what those clothes failed to cover. 

Eventually, the novelty wore off and the looks grew less leering and didn't last as long. That progress might have been aided by the continuing presence of a swordsman by her side. Usually, it was Allen, who would lead her off into different areas of Palas or sit with her in the courtyard. Though I had the opportunity, particularly when they did the latter, I never eavesdropped on them again.

Other times, she would be with Fanel. He had been given the largest of the guestrooms but as far as I could tell, seldom used it. He made but one request to us: that we provide adequate shelter for his guymelef. Corunas, the palace melef master, suggested several locations on palace grounds, but ultimately, it was decided that Escaflowne would be safest hidden in a windmill on the fields it had landed in upon its return to Asturia. The king did not stay away for his mecha for long. In fact, the only thing that seemed capable of luring him away from it was Hitomi Kanzaki. Palace gossip had a theory as to why this was so but I refused to give my opinion on the love lives of foreign kings and Mystic Moon girls. No one would have wanted to hear my opinion on another rumor circulating about Hitomi and that other man she was frequently spotted with.

I would see him from time to time without Hitomi, wandering the grounds. He had no assignments save for staying in Palas until his 'situation' could come to some kind of conclusion so he had little else to do. Alucier informed me that Allen had put in a request to Lord Ramkin to go to his family estate but had been denied due to it being located beyond the city limits. If he had asked, strings could have been pulled, but he made no further requests of anyone. Other than Hitomi, and on an occasion or two, Fanel, the only company he kept was that of Natal's, who forewent her flights around the courtyard to ride on his shoulder.

I stuck to my schedule of visits to Father and social functions. It kept me mercifully busy. With a king visiting the capital, the nobles had excuses to throw more parties than before. Fanel didn't attend any of them but I was probably the only one to notice this. I noticed a lot of things at these balls, mostly who was dancing with whom and how often.

Tonight, the dance cards have been a jumble. No one sticks with a partner for longer than a song and off they go to a new partner. Hard to believe an event hosted by Lady Ramkin would be so dynamic. There are those who do not dance at all. We occupy opposite corners, far away from the crowd and only here because duty requires us to be. In these circles, it would be a terrible snub if I neglected to honor the wife of the commander of the Caeli with my royal presence. It would be more reprehensible if one of her husband's knights, slightly tarnished or otherwise, did not show.

None of the other guests disturb Allen or me. Alucier explains to any interested man that I'm not feeling well tonight but my spirits might be livened by watching others enjoy themselves. Allen, for once, does not receive any offers. It's difficult to tell what causes this more: those treason charges still hanging hazily about him or his association with Hitomi. Nobles tend to have a hypocritical attitude of looking all they want at common girls, but the touching is to be done strictly in private. A knight simply does not spend a measurable amount of time in public talking with a curious girl like Hitomi Kanzaki as if she were an equal. If only they knew who or what she really is…

One person doesn't mind Allen's pariah-like status. It's only a guard but he walks over to Allen and engages him in conversation. Whatever is said causes Allen to jump up and half run to the door. The guard frequently works with Revius. Alucier uses this to get him to detour away from Meiden Fassa and report to us instead.

"I'm sorry, but I should to report to Lord Fassa directly," he stammers.

He chokes when I use his cravat to pull him closer to me. "But I just saw you go to Allen Schezar instead. Tell me why," I demand. I know I'll hear talk about this later but what I learn makes it worth it.

"I saw Commander Schezar first. He owns the Crusade…" His cravat released, the guard is able to speak in fuller sentences. "A lookout positively identified a ship we had been monitoring as the Crusade. It's just beyond the Chattel Mountains. We signaled for it to land at the upper leviship port and received confirmation back. It should be docked there within the hour."

Within an hour -- I don't have to rush to get there in time but I do.

***

Lost weight and faded clothing are the only outward signs of the rough journey my little sister has been on. The somber relief with which she whispered 'Sister' before grabbing me to her testifies to the internal changes wrought by her experiences. I haven't hugged Millerna this tightly since Marlene died. I can't remember ever holding on for so long.

Dryden watches us over the rim of his glasses from across the dockyard. A contented smile plays across his lips despite the screaming coming from his father. Dryden never should have sold his fleet. Dryden should never have gone to Atlantis.

Dryden should pay more attention. Meiden's voice grows shriller as he realizes his son couldn't care less. Millerna and I aren't the only ones taking comfort in our reunion.

The crew of the Crusade goes about their business, securing and unloading the leviship while making light of the elder Fassa's ear-piercing complaints. "Ah, the screeching of the gulls. How I've missed the Asturian beaches!" says the short one with the bandana.

"Yeah, you're a real son of a beach, Reeden!" the large one shouts back.

The rest of the men groan at the awful pun. Gaddes yells at them for talking like that in front of royalty, but Millerna stifles a laugh into my shoulder, indicating she's heard worse and in a larger quantity. It's for my benefit then.

Millerna pulls away sniffling as Gaddes approaches us. He asks if I've heard from Allen and the others yet. It's strange that Allen isn't here himself; he left Lord Ramkin's estate before I did. I've no sooner explained this to Gaddes when a carriage appears on the road. A cry of 'VAAAN-SAAAAAMA!' drowns out Meiden and a blur of orange takes off to meet it.

"Think it's the king?" the lanky one with the knives asks sarcastically.

The catgirl drags her liege out of the carriage. She's a small thing, but it isn't like Fanel is resisting. So the sullen boy-king can smile. All it takes is a euphoric catgirl licking him across the cheek. Hitomi, not wanting to interrupt, stands behind the two friends but Merle's happiness is large enough to accommodate the girl she previously regarded with a hiss and a scowl. Hitomi might miss that over-protectiveness of Fanel as she gets a lick too.

It's a sublimely sweet moment. The 'manly' Crusaders dismiss it with more jokes but I doubt Reeden's laughing is related to his crewmates' wit. Even Meiden is respectful enough to shut his mouth. The only person seemingly unaffected by the scene is the one who arranged for it to take place. Allen stands on the carriage steps, impassive and deliberately apart from the sets of reunited families and friends.

"Can we go home now, Eries?" Millerna yawns. "I could use a long, hot bath."

And probably a good night's sleep in her own bed. She crawls into the carriage I brought here and nestles into the plush velvet seat.

The Fassas depart in their own carriage shortly after us. We're not even to the main road when Reeden, with the need for etiquette over, shouts, "Big party at my family's tavern! All the free alcohol you can keep down!" to substantial applause.

***

Next up: One Wedding and Considerably More Than Four Funerals


	7. Tea and Empathy

"Always…"

VI: Tea and Empathy

I did have a public lunch scheduled but since I have an excellent excuse to cancel, the Ladies for the Somesuch Cause will have to make do without me. Most of those things are dull processions of good intentions and prettily worded rhetoric anyway. Accomplishments are few and meager and generally would have occurred whether the meeting had taken place or not. Sitting on the council trained me well for them.

Regardless, it's a light conscience and a heavy tray of food I carry into Millerna's room. The cooks were surprised by my request to deliver it personally, but I didn't want this afternoon interrupted. We have a lot to discuss and we don't need someone hovering around to clear away the dishes. 

It's better too, if Millerna has to be woken up past midday, that her sister be the one to do it. The curtains on both the window and bed are drawn. Pulling them open causes the clump under the covers to contract when the sunlight bursts through the room.

"Millerna, it's time to wake up."

She yawns her opinion that I am mistaken about this.

I can guess how tired she is. She never was able to sleep well on a leviship. Her mind just couldn't equate the perpetual movement of the ship with the need of her body to lie still and rest. Father would schedule any trips that required taking a leviship accordingly, using short routes during daylight hours, but she didn't have that choice *living* aboard the Crusade. She had to adapt or stay awake for weeks on end.

Her adaptation wasn't complete though. She went from hot bath to bed immediately after returning to the palace and from the sound of it, would like to continue with the bed portion indefinitely. She'll need to be lured out.

It's simply a matter of supplying her with another thing that must have been in short supply on the Crusade. "I have food, Millerna. Vegetables in the herb sauce you always liked. Here's a choice piece of shellfish just dripping with butter. And this custard and berry trifle looks amazing, though you might want to have the fruit tortes instead."

"Breakfast in bed?" she asks hopefully.

"Lunch in bed," I revise.

Millerna pushes out of her cocoon, sits up against the headboard and gladly relieves me of the tray. She pours tea, a glass for her and me, while munching on a roll. "Honeyed bread," she enthuses. "So much better than the tack Kio made."

"Which one is he?"

"The big one. The really, really big one. He's not normally a cook, but no one else wanted to do it. Well, Mr. Mole offered but a couple of the men were very vocal about that not happening." She smiles as she delves into her own experiences in the kitchen. "I volunteered to help, insisted even after everyone objected because I'm a princess. They eventually relented but then they objected again because I'm a terrible cook. Did you know it's possible to burn the inside of a pot if you leave it sitting on the fire long enough?"

"They could have given you a timer," I jest.

"Along with a recipe book and cooking lessons," she adds. "In retrospect, maybe we should have sent Dryden's assistant back on the Crusade and kept his lead ship for ourselves. It's slower than the Crusade, but it also comes equipped with a full galley and the staff to man it."

"It must have been quite the adventure for you."

"The journey back from Atlantis wasn't so bad." I notice she skips the journey there. "It was different, to say the least, living on a leviship with a group of men. They did their best to accommodate me, but really, I was the one who should have adjusted to them."

"They are Asturian soldiers, Millerna. Even if they don't wear the proper uniform, they've pledged their allegiance to the crown."

"I don't know if that's where their ultimate loyalty lies," she says, probably referring to Allen given how readily they aided him in his escape. "They were very respectful, though. Of course, if they hadn't been, Gaddes would have yelled at them. He plays the gruff solider for the crew but he's actually a gentleman with more manners around a lady than some nobles have. Merle hounded him continuously about when we were going to get back to Palas but he never snapped at her.

I felt sorry for her; she was so worried about Van…"

Her sympathy for the catgirl has a twinge of empathy in it. Fanel wasn't the only man to return early. Like in her letter, Millerna seems to be avoiding talk of Allen. I won't push that just yet. There are so many other things to cover -- Father's health, Chid (though we won't be able to discuss him without Allen), Atlantis and another person whose name Millerna has only said in passing so far.

Atlantis would be the easiest topic to transition to, but it's the least important. I take the second easiest instead. "What about Dryden? How did you get along with him?"

Her reaction is not what I expected. She pauses thoughtfully. Before she would dismiss him outright. Now she makes an admission that is difficult and troublesome to her in its honesty. "He came on very strong at first, suggesting that we get married right away and telling me how wonderful he is. But he realized how uncomfortable that made me so he backed off after that. I know we wouldn't have gotten to Atlantis without him. He wasn't very… considerate… when he was reading Leon Schezar's journal but he was the only one who could have done it. And when Van, Hitomi and Allen disappeared, I wanted to stay and search for them. He could have just told me we were going back to Palas and leave it at that, but he explained why he thought it was best instead. He knew I was mad at him for that so he stayed away from me for a while. He stuck around Merle a lot, trying to distract her from missing Van. When he was sort of successful with that, he turned his tricks on me. He gave us books to read and kept asking what we thought about them. He kept telling us stories about all the countries he had been to and then he would start exaggerating more and more until it was obvious he was just making it all up. Merle hissed at him a couple of times, but you know, I don't think she was worrying about Van when Dryden was talking. And when Merle wasn't around and it was just the two of us, we would talk. Actually, I would tell him why he was wrong to not look for the others more, why nothing would ever come of our supposed engagement and other stuff about how I was going to make Father and the council see how bad Zaibach is. Dryden would stand there taking it all in.

I can say that for him," Millerna concludes, "He knows when to talk and when to listen."

"That's a good quality to have in a man."

There were subtler ways to say it, but Millerna doesn't take offense at my insinuation. "I know, Eries. I know I could do a lot worse than having Dryden Fassa as a fiancée too. He says he loves me," she says. "I… I believe him."

"Does that mean you're going to go ahead with the engagement?"

"I don't know. I like him but I don't -- " The words catch in her throat, like she's heard them before and they frighten her. She picks at the food she no longer wants to eat while saying blankly, "It's my duty. It's the fate of women born of the blood."

I've heard that phrase before. Marlene, unduly influenced by the histrionics of sentimental novels, would say it to me occasionally during her periods of depression. Millerna wasn't of an age at the time for Marlene to talk to her so frankly and she spent too much time reading medical journals to pick up the language of melodramatic romance tales.

"Marlene used to say the same thing…"

"I'm paraphrasing her diary," she admits. Pushing aside the tray, she hugs her legs close to her chest. "I found it in her old villa in Freid. I shouldn't have read it. She hid it away in that big music box she used to keep in her bedroom just so no one could read it. But once I got started and realized what it was… I was so young when she went away. I wanted to know more about her."

I nod in agreement. I miss our sister too. To have her most private life out on a page, to be able to achieve that kind of intimacy with her again so long after she's been gone, would be an irresistible temptation. I would have started to read it myself. Knowing why Marlene would have used that phrase while in Freid, I understand why Millerna was compelled to keep reading and why she wanted to talk to me about Chid.

"I discovered something, Eries. Something that happened before Marlene went to Freid…"

She doesn't want to say it; it's something I should have told her long ago when trying to dissuade her of her crush on Allen. 

"I know, Millerna," I say. I sit down on the bed beside her and share that knowledge. From the start of Marlene's first glimpse of Allen at the tournament that won him his Caeli rank to the first visit our family paid to Mahad, Marlene and their newborn son, I tell her the secrets I've kept buried. They empty out, carrying grief and regrets and a breath of relief. Though they belonged to Marlene, I always felt their burden. They were entangled in my life too, forcing separation and distance into the relationships that should have been the closest. Now free, I can feel the secrets working in reverse, bridging the gaps and binding Millerna and I and even Marlene together.

Not everything flows out into the open. There are details that should be left private, pieces that no longer seem important and one truth that refuses to come out, although Millerna's prodding comes perilously close to shaking it loose.

"Poor Marlene… I remember how sad she was all the time and then that summer before she went to Freid, she was happy again… I just accepted it. My sister wanted to play with me again, that's all that mattered. I didn't care *why* she was happy. And the way everything ended…"

I used to wish she would examine her motives and actions more critically, but I didn't want her to do it overly much. "You were nine years old, Millerna. This isn't the kind of thing nine-year-olds should know about. In fact, the fewer people who knew about it, the better."

"But Marlene confided in you. She must have wanted to be able to tell someone about it."

"Actually, it was Allen who told me about them. He came to me beforehand and asked me what I -- " Old reflexes kick in and warn me I'm giving away too much. "It doesn't matter who told whom," I finish feebly.

It matters to Millerna. "Allen asked you about Marlene first? I didn't think the two of you were that… close. I mean… I saw you at balls dancing together now and then but… I thought that was just part of being a princess and a knight."

My more cynical side picks up a fragment of an unintentional insult, as if I couldn't possibly have had contact with Allen for any reason other than diplomatic. That's not what Millerna meant; she's just remembering what she knows about us through the perspective of the naïve child she was back then, but it's enough to let me slide back into my habit of only telling her half the story.

Unfortunately, that doesn't work on her anymore. The same new attitude that had her speaking favorably of Dryden now has her questioning the simple 'oh, yes, we were friends for awhile' line that I gave her heedless of what further damage it might do to the shining image she had of Allen. "Eries, that's not something you share with someone who's 'just a friend'. It sounds like he was asking for your approval. He must have really respected and trusted you."

"Millerna…"

"Did he tell you about Chid, too?"

Her tenacity hasn't changed at all. She's caught a glimpse of something, a hint of the tangled past Allen and I share, and she won't let it go back into the dark I kept it in. Regardless of the warning Marlene's diary could have been that some things are better left unknown, she's pursuing this, asking when I first found out about Chid and how much I really know. Then her unanswered questions start going back farther. How long and how well do I know Allen anyway?

The eagerness in her voice reflects the pleading curiosity in her eyes. In discovering the secrets of one sister, she's come so close to revealing those of the other's. It would make such a bizarre confession. _Guess what, Millerna? I have more in common with you and Marlene than you thought! _

It just wouldn't be a relevant one. The facts that exist outside my heart really are that Allen and I were just friends. That line was never crossed. Any leanings over the edge I perceived never came to anything. I've accepted that but I still can't bring myself to look at my sister and tell her about something that never truly was.

We were fourteen. I talked to him before he went off to training and helped him with legal matters regarding his family's estate when he got back. We became close friends after that and continued on thusly, until we stopped talking to each other completely in the spring. These are the easy, tangible details that can't be disputed, that aren't open to wishful interpretation.

Millerna tries to but has the same difficulty I do. She asks, "Did you… ?" and lapses back into silence. Finding out your sister and the man you said you were in love with had a profound friendship you never even knew about must be enough for a person to digest without searching for thornier complications.

Her meal effectively over, Millerna plays with the remains. "I guess I should get dressed now. Father probably can't wait to give me a lecture about how irresponsible I've been. Is there any chance he'll be so happy to see me, he won't say anything?"

Her smile quickly changes into a wary 'gods, what's coming next?' expression when I don't answer right away. It would be humorous if I didn't know what was coming next.

"Millerna… while you were gone… Father…. He fell ill. He hasn't recovered as well as we hoped… "

"What?! Eries?! Why didn't you tell me last night?"

"His condition hasn't gotten much better, but it hasn't gotten any worse. I knew you would see him today and I thought you deserved to get some rest before then." I thought she needed to get some rest. Mentally and physically exhausted, she wasn't in any condition to confront a blunt display of Father's mortality.

Nor does she look ready to today. Millerna shakes her head back and forth, with tears forming at the corners of her eyes, but she doesn't make any move to get up. I want her to start asking me about his symptoms, what his treatments are and all the other hundreds of irritating questions she used to have whenever someone was sick and she wanted to play doctor. I want her to because I think I know why she's not.

"It's because I went away, isn't it?" Millerna says in confirmation. "It was because he was so worried about me. He couldn't bear the thought of losing another daughter."

"The situation with Zaibach caused him a great deal of stress… "

She doesn't want to be coddled by excuses. They didn't work on me either when I came up with them to ease my own guilt. "I caused him more. Look me in the eye and tell me, Eries, that that isn't the main reason it happened." She doesn't give me the chance. "I knew he would worry about me, but I never thought… "

"He's our father, Millerna, and a king. He's supposed to be a strong, commanding figure that never waivers, never weakens. I know that's not true. I know how sick he got after Mother died and how hard he took Marlene's death. But that doesn't stop me from wanting it to be true and letting myself be deluded when he is healthy."

"I know what you mean," Millerna says, taking strength from the shared weakness. "He's Father… but he's so much more than that. People fight for the privilege of meeting him and everyone goes silent when he talks. His face is on our currency, for Jichia's sake. He just seems… eternal. Whatever happens, he'll overcome it and be just as strong as ever. I think that's why I was so upset about his refusal to stand up to Zaibach. I didn't want to believe that there was something out there that he couldn't handle, that anyone could make Father bend to their will."

"That didn't stop you from trying."

Millerna smiles at the attempt to lighten the mood, but it's bittersweet. "I used to also think that I would always get my way. The word 'no' never got much usage when Father talked to me, at least not until last year. I didn't have a good reaction to hearing it. So now I think of the arguments we had and then of him being sick… It's like I took his being there for granted and wasted that time."

"But know you not to." Taking her hand and recalling the talks I had with him before his last attack, I admit, "It's something I had to learn too."

"Gods, Eries. We can't lose him. It hurt so much losing Marlene. I still miss her. Being in Freid, walking into that villa… It's been years and yet it felt wrong without her. I couldn't help but think 'Marlene should be here to greet me' and 'Chid's too young to have to do this on his own'."

Our nephew's name brings fresh tears. "It doesn't seem fair, how quickly a life can fall apart. We're worried about losing Father; Chid already has lost his. I can't imagine what it's like for him. I grew up without a mother but a never knew her to really mourn her. I don't know which is worse. Then he had to watch the palace collapse and know that the people inside, the people he cared about, died to protect him. When the Duke died… I don't see how Chid endured it… "

I can't fathom it either. After learning about Mahad's death, I sent condolences through unofficial channels to Freid. A man named Kaja, who said he now served as the new Duke's head advisor, answered them. This Kaja claimed Chid was doing well, going out among his shaken people and observing religious ceremonies in the public temples. It was as if he was doing too well. Freidians are typically stoic people. Few things are more important to them than the proficient execution of their duties. Their gods are one of those things. I hope Chid is finding solace in the teachings of the monks instead of pushing away the emotions that are too hard to deal with.

"He was so brave," Millerna says. "When we were leaving Freid, he told me not to worry about him. He said his father had left the future of Freid in his hands and he wouldn't have done that if he didn't think he could do it. Can you believe that, Eries? After all he had been through and he was coping better than I ever could."

"Yes, he's being very brave…"

Millerna frowns at my lukewarm response. "You're worried that he's just putting up a front, aren't you? I was worried about that myself, especially after seeing how much he cried when the temple collapsed. The Duke told him not to cry, that hardship was part of being a ruler of Freid."

That must have sounded harsh to an outsider, but being born royalty myself, I know what Mahad was talking about. The same flawed view Millerna and I had of Father is held even more strongly by the people. When the people are recovering from a tragedy, it needs to become a reality. I can't help, though, but to feel that it's too much to ask of a boy barely over five years old. 

"But you're sure it wasn't an act for Chid?"

"It's was the way he talked, that sad smile on his face. I could tell he was in pain but I don't think he was ignoring it. It was more like he was dealing with it by being the kind of duke Brother wanted him to be, like it was the best way to honor him."

"Keeping his father's memory alive by emulating him. That's a sophisticated concept for a child but then our nephew is an exceptional little boy."

"I won't argue with that," Millerna sighs. "He'll be a good duke. He'll serve the Freidians well. Better, I think, than I've been serving Asturia."

"If this is about leaving again -- "

"No, Eries. Despite Father's health, despite my motives, I think it was best that I left. If I hadn't rendezvoused with the Crusade when I did, if I hadn't been there to operate… "

A portion of her letter comes back to me. She had written something about her medical skills being needed. I thought she was talking about casualties in Freid, but obviously I was wrong. "Who did you operate on?"

"He didn't tell you? He almost died. You said you weren't close any more but something like that... "

There's only one man she would say that about. It's a shock that Allen's life was in jeopardy but it's not that he didn't tell me. After all, he found his father and the only way I know that is because I eavesdropped on him.

"No, Millerna. I gather you're talking about Allen and he has not said a word, not even in the official reports he gave to Lord Ramkin and the council."

"He probably didn't want to go through it again. I could barely stand it and I wasn't the one with the injury."

She starts by giving me the account that was given to her by Hitomi and then goes into her own part of the story. There was a fight between Fanel and a squadron from Zaibach that would have ended badly for the king if not for Allen's intervention. It would have been worse for Hitomi if Allen hadn't used his guymelef, Scherazade, to shield her. For his heroics, he received a wound that would have cost him his life if a doctor hadn't been there to stop the bleeding.

The medical training I was determined to put a stop to ended up saving the life of the man who was once the center of mine. I should thank my sister for being more stubborn than I was willing to be controlling.

I'm not sure how she would take the gratitude. Getting the chance to practice the medicine she longed to study seems to have changed her opinion of it. "It was horrible, Eries. There was blood everywhere and all I could do is stand around yelling for a doctor. I felt helpless. I just blanked on everything I had learned. I faced my first crisis and I panicked."

"But you must have pulled yourself together long enough to do the operation."

"Because Mr. Mole persuaded me to. I was ready to give up and he had to talk me into to. He gave me my medical bag and pointed out to me that if I didn't do it, no one else would."

"That must have been a lot of pressure on you."

"Hmm. It's odd how this works, but once I knew it was what everyone expected of me, it was easier to accept doing it."

"That's not odd, Millerna. That's how young royals are supposed to act."

"Maybe," she says. "When I first started, all I could think of is what would happened if I failed. But thinking like that would make me fail so I had to push it out and just focus on what my teacher showed me and what the book said. It was exhausting. I passed out after I finished."

"You talk as if you don't ever want to do it again… "

The forgotten food grabs her attention again as Millerna thinks over her answer. This is something that has been weighing heavily on her and when she does speak, it's isn't just her studies she's been considering. "I don't want to give up medicine, Eries. I saved someone's life, someone I care about. I know now that I wasn't taken it seriously enough. It was a hobby and a way to rebel. I said I wanted to be a doctor, but all I thought about was the glory, not the blood and the fact that people could die because I wasn't prepared to do my job. But at the same time, given what Brother did and what Chid is doing in Freid, I know I didn't take my responsibilities as a princess seriously enough either. I want to change that, Eries. I was born a princess, but I want to become a doctor. I realize I can't expect to be able to do the latter without fulfilling my duties as the former first."

I can feel it. This is why she was so careful when describing Dryden. She was closer to the cusp of a decision than I realized. Now she's reached it.

"I'm going to agree to marry Dryden. He'll be a good husband and after hearing his ideas on women, I know he won't stop me from studying medicine. He'll probably help me out with it. But I am going to wait on that. I don't think the situation with Zaibach is going to just go away and I want Asturia to be stable before indulging my own interests. And I want Father to be well."

I'm so proud of her. On her own, she's accepted her duties and found a way to pursue her passion. I must admit, it's more than I've been able to do. She's also apparently put her fixation on Allen in a proper place. If she were still obsessed, I don't think she would have come to conclusion she did about Dryden.

Allen does still figure into her marital concerns though. "I want this wedding to be a new start, Eries. For me, for Asturia, for everyone. After reading Marlene's diary, I don't know what to make of whatever it was going on between Allen and I, but I want it to be a new start for him too. I just don't think I'd be able to talk to him about this. Now that I know you used to be friends with him… "

"Millerna… In the past, maybe I could have talked to him… But I don't know about now."

"Eries, please?"

I can't say no to her now, not after she's made the decision she's made. I promise her I'll consider it at least.

There's only one more thing. "When we were in Freid, a message came saying Allen had been charged with treason. Charges like that aren't taken lightly. Have they been dropped yet?"

"No, they're still pending."

"Get them dropped, Eries. Get them dropped as soon as possible. The council will listen to you, but they'd probably laugh at me if I suggested it. I'm going to go see Father and then Dryden. After that, it won't be long until the entire kingdom knows. I want Allen to know that his status as a Caeli is safe before he hears about the wedding. I know, I know. I might be overestimating his reaction but -- "

"I understand, Millerna. I'll talk to the council. They're in a meeting now. I'll address them after they adjourn. If all goes well, the charges will be dropped this afternoon."

She spills her tray on the bed sheet as she goes to hug me. This newfound closeness makes it worth having to deal with the council. I hope it will lend me strength to confront Allen openly and honestly without having to run away. 

***

Author's Notes: Yep, I'm doing splitting up chapters again. It's just been so long since I posted and I didn't want anyone thinking I had abandoned this story. Plus, this section is rather lengthy (don't want to give anyone headaches from reading off the computer screen for too long x_x) and stands on its own.

Since we have a similar readership, I'm sure some of you caught Ron and his Sakura's announcement that Sakura has produced fan art for Asturia: Love & Duty. She's also produced some artwork for Girl and this fic! She has a gallery up at Media Miner. I would give you the direct link, but ff.net keeps stripping it out no matter how many ways I try to format so just stick a www. in front of mediaminer.org and browse their fan art section. If Media Miner's server is being poopy (and it usually is), you can find most of the pics at my Eries shrine. Again, ff.net isn't liking the links tonight so just go through my author profile. Bleh, I need to learn more about html. 

Next Up: One Wedding… Oh, you know the title already!


	8. One Wedding and Considerably More Than F...

**Some portions of dialogue have been quoted from the subtitled version of the series on the DVD set distributed by Bandai***

"Always…"

VII: One Wedding and Considerably More Than Four Funerals

Before I can have a private talk with Allen, I must have a public confrontation with him and the council. The council agreed to hear us; Allen just needs to show up so I'm not the only one talking.

I don't know why he hasn't yet. I gave those pages very explicit instructions. They should have found him by now. Allen isn't allowed outside city limits and most of his time is spent on the palace grounds. That's not a lot of territory to cover for a group of people whose primary purpose is to deliver messages back and forth. How could they not have found a man in a Caeli uniform with hair down to his waist? They couldn't have mistaken someone else for him. But if the pages didn't, that means Allen didn't care enough to appear at his own treason hearing.

This doesn't look good, for either of us.

"Princess," Lord Millay says with an ominous sigh. "I know you served on this council before and therefore, you must know how important it is to conduct business in a timely manner. I don't think this is a terribly urgent matter to begin with. Judging from Schezar's absence, he must agree."

There are nods all around, except for Lord Windom. He's not showing support. He fell asleep five minutes ago. Twenty minutes is a long time for these men to go without arguing about something.

"I assure you, as soon as Allen Schezar is located, he will be here." I wish someone would assure me. It wasn't pleasant coming before a council I once was a member of and pleading like a commoner for a bit of their precious time. It wasn't pleasant either to spend that hard won time smiling emptily like a fool because the man for whom it was set aside isn't complying with the schedule. But to get what I want, I have to pretend it was. "These charges have been looming for long enough. He's been back in Palas for weeks without any resolution being made. It doesn't reflect favorably on Asturia to have one of her highest knights come under such dark suspicion and for no one to act upon it. The sooner this is resolved, the sooner we can move on."

I can't tell who it is, but someone curses under his breath, "You better tell the damned knight that." Someone else snickers.

I can't let this get out of hand before it even starts. I promised Millerna I would take care of this and take care of it today. With or without Allen's help. "Is it necessary for Schezar to be here? You heard his testimony along with King Fanel's when he returned. My sister is willing to offer testimony of her own." More snickering. A few months ago, I would have laughed at the idea of Millerna giving an objective opinion of Allen too, but that's beside the point. "As is Dryden Fassa." Invoking the name of the son of the council's temporary head silences everyone.

"Really?" Meiden sniffs. "He hasn't said anything to me about the matter. He hasn't said anything about Allen Schezar."

"Perhaps not to you, but he and Millerna have spoken about it." They *could* have discussed Allen, though if they did, treason charges would likely be the last thing mentioned. The council doesn't need to know that. It occurs to me that the council doesn't need to know anything. "If you gentlemen would like to convene later though, I understand. But Meiden, if I could talk to you in private… about my sister and your son…"

The councilmen shuffle out slowly, hoping to catch the most recent word on the potential royal wedding from the two sources closest to the betrothed couple. Meiden and I are both politicians enough to defer speaking until the room is empty.

"You had something to say, Princess?"

He wants me to be direct. I think it's best to be a little more circuitous. I need to exercise the negotiation skills that have grown slack over the summer. "I had a long talk with Millerna earlier today. A part of it was about Dryden."

"And what did she have to say about him?"

"She thought he had good character. She was appreciative of his help in aiding her friends."

"She said nothing of her engagement to him."

"Possible engagement. She has… concerns."

"Ah, concerns… Would these be the type of concerns that can be assuaged by a helpful sibling?"

"Perhaps. I don't know how much I can do though. Millerna's been distracted by another matter and when she's upset about something, she tends to keep focusing on it."

"Oh, my, my. What could be upsetting the poor girl? Let me take a wild, uneducated guess. She's upset that she won't have twelve Caeli at her wedding because one of them might be convicted of treason and there won't be time to replace him?"

"You know how particular women can be about weddings…"

"In Jichia's name!" I probably shouldn't take pleasure in Meiden being the first to drop the pretext of a friendly chat, but it does bode well for me getting my way. The agitated negotiator is always at a disadvantage to the calm one. 

And Meiden is very agitated. "You know, your sister should be counting her blessings that she's engaged to a respectable man that will care for her instead of some disgraced fop. And you, Princess, should know better. Grava thought you still had a weakness for Schezar but honestly, I thought you were more sensible."

"You think I'm sensible?" I chose to treat it as a backhanded compliment over a full insult. I only want a little bit of tension, not complete hostility. I'll have plenty of that later if Meiden finds out that Millerna's already agreed to marry Dryden. "Then let me make a sensible proposal. Zaibach did not retaliate against us for Allen's actions. Millerna is safely back home. No lasting harm was done, so why don't we let the matter drop?"

"No lasting harm?" he sneers. "He almost killed your father! He didn't stick a sword in him, but taking his daughter away had the same effect!"

"Allen told Millerna to stay in Palas -- "

"Are you that blind? Grava didn't have the stroke until after we found out about Freid. Until after he found out his daughter was running into danger to be by her pet knight's side. If Schezar had had any honor or sense of duty at all, he would have insisted that she stay behind. He would have refused to let her come along. We're still allies with Zaibach. They would have let her come back and this whole mess with your father's health would have been avoided!"

Meiden hits closer than he knows. Yes, Allen could have forced Millerna to stay in Freid but if I had forced her to stay in Palas first, this whole discussion would be moot. And if Millerna hadn't gotten it in her head to run away. And if Father hadn't capitulated to Zaibach so quickly…

My own guilt makes it hard to lay all the blame on another. We've all made mistakes. We've let everything from personal issues to political fears guide us into actions that weren't necessarily right but did not feel wrong when we took them. We were only doing our best. We're not seers. We can only guess where our actions will lead and none of us would have deliberately chosen a path that led to Father being left bedridden and on the verge of death. It's easy to look back and judge. I can say things would be better if Millerna had stayed. But when I was standing on that dock, I knew that caging Millerna then would only make her fly away faster the second she got the chance. She needed to learn and neither of us were at the point where I could truly teach her.

If Meiden had accused me, I could plead my intentions. He accused Allen though and I can't say on his behalf what his were. The ones I've suspected in the past wouldn't help him. We've been apart too long for me to make any other guesses with any degree of accuracy. So here I am, trying to counter a man with a valid point for the benefit of a man who didn't make it here to offer any of his own, however bad they may be.

It's tricky dancing in the grey area of the greater good, but I've made these moves before. They're not always graceful. Some can be downright crude. "I know Father is in precarious health, but that was no one's intention. Millerna is back now. That will help him. Following his wishes to marry Dryden will help him more. Is it more important to you to satisfy a grudge against Allen Schezar in Father's stead, or to let it go so that everyone can move forward in peace?"

"Brokering over your Father's sickbed for the man who put him in it? Gods, woman, is there anything you won't do for Schezar?" 

"What do you mean?" I ask before I've had the chance to think better of it. Meiden grins. He knows I've given him a means by which to take control.

"You realize that your sister's hand shouldn't be your bargaining chip, don't you? If you were serious about your politics, it should be yours."

"Dryden is in love with Millerna," I say slowly. I'm not sure what Meiden's intentions are, but I don't care for how he's executing them. 

"Oh, yes, that's plain in every word he speaks about her, but you know as well as I do how little love has to do with political marriages." His grin widens. "No wait, you don't know. You don't have a clue."

"I don't see how this is relevant to the topic at hand." Such a weak defense, but I can't let Meiden monopolize the conversation. My advantage is gone. I now need to keep us even.

"Twenty-one is awfully old for an unmarried princess in Asturia. I don't blame you for passing up the beyond the border offers. Who wants to be a powerless piece of jewelry on a foreign crown when you can rule everything at home? I really thought you were waiting for the right Asturian noble to marry -- someone with a nice title but not enough backbone to stand up to you. Asturian law doesn't allow her queens to rule directly, but nothing stops them from using their kingly husbands as fancy puppets." 

"Again, Meiden, is there a point you are trying to make?" The impatience and irritation in my voice don't have to be faked. If anything, I have to keep them in check.

"You threw it away, Princess. I believe Grava still has many good years in him, but Asturia needs a successor and no one's going to wait any longer for you. When my son marries your sister, the throne will pass right out of your hands. And for what? A disgraced knight that barely acknowledges you? If I may be so frank, get some pride. Schezar didn't care enough about these charges or you to come here. Let him rot."

I don't think Meiden's distaste for Allen comes completely from Father. There must be another reason for him wanting the charges to go through. "Fine, Meiden. We've established that I am not entirely objective when it comes to Allen Schezar. But I am not the only one whose impartiality is in question. And don't tell me you're doing this on my father's behalf."

"No," Meiden discloses, "Grava hates him for what he's done to you girls. I want him gone because he's in my way."

"Your way?"

"Well, my son's way," he amends. He was speaking more truthfully the first time. "Dryden does love Millerna but, alas, she hasn't quite reached the point where she reciprocates those feelings. You tell me she's ready to marry but only on the condition that Schezar goes free. You understand why I might not be so enthusiastic about the deal. What's to stop her from changing her mind once the charges are dropped?"

"Her word. And mine."

"What's the saying? A verbal contract isn't worth the paper it's printed on? I've been a merchant since long before you were born. There's a way out of any contract. And if Schezar's still around, your sister might start looking for one. On the other hand, if Schezar gets banished or becomes so disgraced that she wouldn't think of touching him, suddenly, Dryden looks much more appealing."

"And you're doing this all for your son's happiness, aren't you?"

"I freely admit I stand to gain by this marriage, but yes, my son's happiness does matter to me." It galls me that Meiden is attempting indignity. "He loves her. He wants to marry her. What about your sister's happiness? I know you've tried to wean her off Schezar before, why not cut her off when you've got the chance? You know he's bad for her. You know nothing good is going to come of her 'love' for him. Dryden would take care of her. He wouldn't use her. He would do anything in the world for her. Isn't that the kind of man you want for her?"

"Yes, which is exactly why I support the marriage and asked you to meet Millerna's condition to begin with."

"Forgive me for wanting to be certain. To put it simply, no Millerna equals no king for a son. I don't want to take the chance she'll pick another option once she gets what she wants. You say you want her to marry Dryden, but Millerna talked you into letting her leave the country when you were set against it. I don't need you two conniving to find a way out of her engagement."

Meiden doesn't wish to see conniving? Too bad for him. "To put it even more simply, no dropped charges equals no chance of a wedding at all. You will quit insulting me and do as I say or you will see how much influence I can have over my sister -- starting with drilling into her head all the reasons why she doesn't want you for a father-in-law."

There's just a flicker of the true rage he feels before Meiden goes reverts to the shrewd merchant. He's lost this battle but the odds for the war still look good. He throws up his hands in a theatrical surrender. "All right, all right. If you can live with the consequences, I suppose I can as well. The charges are dropped. The luster has been restored to Asturia's wayward knight," he says grandly. More darkly, he hisses, "Though I don't know quite what to say about the condition of her second princess. Enjoy your victory."

I don't think I will. Manipulation isn't something to savor and it's the only reason I won. We both took our shots, but Meiden's were more telling.

***

Needing to wash off the muck from my encounter with Meiden, I go looking for Millerna to tell her the good news. She's not in her room -- frustrating, but a good indicator that she followed through on her end to talk to Dryden after visiting Father. Proof positive comes from overhearing Dryden declare his impending nuptials when I pass by the room he has commandeered for his private office. Everyone in the hall can hear Hitomi Kanzaki's astonished reaction.

I listen in the hallway as Dryden expounds upon the prosperity that awaits Asturia upon his coronation. From anyone else, it would be boorishly egotistical. It couldn't be considered humble coming from Dryden, but a tint of self-deprecation in his speech indicates he finds the pomposity humorous. No one else in the room seems to get the joke and I'm not in a mood to laugh.

My entrance won't make anyone find anything funnier. "They were engaged to begin with. It's only natural that Dryden become successor to Asturia's royal family," I state matter-of-factly.

Hitomi gasps my name. For someone who is supposedly psychic, she's very easy to startle. Fanel and his catgirl just stare. They're good at it and really, it's not as if any of this effects them. Dryden's got the sense to stay quiet. So does the sixth person in the room. For good measure, Allen looks away guilty when his eyes catch mine.

This room is no more than a hundred yards or so from the council chamber, yet somehow he managed to materialize in it without a single page spotting him and alerting him to my request to meet me before the council. I haven't had the chance to talk to any of them so maybe I was right in assuming that they did speak to Allen but he ignored them. I can't tell what happened from Allen's expression. Feeling responsible is an instinctual response for him when an upset woman is in the vicinity. Yet where was chivalry during that encounter with Meiden? Allen wasn't there to represent it. If he had been, the whole thing likely would have stayed civil and well in front of all the councilmen.

He doesn't even know what I did for him. I wonder if he ever knew. 

I hate the frustration of being the silent martyr, but some roles can't be broken out of. True to the manner of another part assigned to me, the Ice Princess, I coldly inform him of the results of my labors. "Furthermore, we'll even let bygones be bygones in regards to your crimes."

Everyone's memory must go blank because they all act as if they can't comprehend what I'm talking about. I cite what I can remember of the official proclamation of the treason charges. Irritated by their incredulous responses and the fact that I know that proclamation is nothing but overblown half-truths written by the Strategos and yet I'm quoting it anyway, I sink further and start paraphrasing Meiden. "After Millerna left, our father was so worried that he fell ill. It was because you took Millerna with you."

"That's enough," Millerna says firmly. She's arrived in time to see me at my lowest but, blessedly, to stop me from getting any worse too.

Her appearance brings everything to a halt. No one so much as blinks as she walks up to Allen. 

With perfect grace, Allen drops to one knee to kneel before his liege. He takes her hand and gives it the barest of kisses, a romantic gesture only in the sense that it conforms to the standards of gallantry. "May I offer my congratulations on your wedding, Princess Millerna?"

It's a breathless moment. Everyone watches and puzzles over what this means. Allen doesn't give any hints. He stands, bows to Millerna, then me and then, though not as deeply, to Dryden, turns on his heel and walks smartly out of the room.

I gather Dryden has chosen a literal interpretation. He acts as if nothing of any importance has taken place and asks Millerna how the remainder of her visit to our father went.

"I ran into Dryden on my way to Father's room," she explains to me. "I thought it might be more beneficial if we could make the announcement together so I gave Dryden my consent then."

If only the gods would bless us with such a miracle. Millerna's taking her first visit to our sick father well though, another positive thing to counterbalance my foul mood. She does know substantially more about medicine than I do. I listen to the doctors' positive prognoses with the skepticism of layman being fed jargon to keep them from knowing the truth. My sister wouldn't be susceptible to those tricks; she would know if Father's actually improving or if was only wishful thinking.

"Now that everyone but my family knows the good news, maybe I should tell them," Dryden announces. As he brushes past Millerna, he takes the hand Allen didn't kiss and holds it close to him. "I would take you with me, but I don't want your soon to be Fassa in-laws to scare you off."

Millerna blushes nervously. I imagine my cheeks look a tad redder.

"About that, Dryden…" I gradually slur out. "I think it best that you wait until tomorrow to inform your father. He's had an… exciting… day in the council. You wouldn't want to overdo it."

Both of them look at me oddly, but Dryden doesn't dwell on it. "Whatever you say. The old man's been acting weird about it anyway. If I told him today, he'd probably want to spend all night figuring out ways to use the wedding to boost his profit margin."

Once he's gone, Millerna's quick to question me. "I didn't hear if you got the charges dropped or not but from the way you were talking, it didn't sound good."

__

No, Millerna, that was just Ice Princess venting her anger. "It's been handled. Don't ask me how, but Meiden agreed to get the council to dismiss the charges."

"Oh." She looks back and forth from the door Dryden left through and me, putting together the things I've said. She coughs delicately and meaningfully. "Anyway… Thank you, Eries. It's a weight off my shoulders. Now, the other thing we discussed…"

"I'll talk to Allen." I'll talk to him if only to figure out what went wrong this afternoon. Which reminds me, I have some pages to gather up and question.

"Um, when you do, Eries," Millerna says with a feint smile. "Perhaps you might want to be slightly less, umm… confrontational."

It's a display of humor that will serve her well as the wife of Dryden Fassa and, a reminder of why I must go through with my promise. Over the course of a day, I've become closer to her than I've ever been and to preserve that, I'd even take on Meiden again.

***

"Okay, promise me you won't kill him. I know the surroundings add an extra temptation, but you've got to promise."

It's a wonder that I ever tell Alucier anything. Ever since I recounted what happened with Meiden and then with Allen and the others, he's been making light at my more ruthless side. The extravagant apology this morning for eating the last roll was cute. The scenario he concocted with Revius featuring me taking down Zaibach by scorning them into submission had its entertaining portions. One more joke though, might result in having to turn that side on him.

I regretted letting my fight with Meiden influence my manner as it was. I felt worse after I finally spoke to those pages and discovered that only one, a man named Twite who is fairly new to the job, had found Allen in time but hadn't been able to get any word to him. As it turned out, he was involved in a sparring session of his own against Fanel. The young king had been acquitting himself well when a disarming move by Allen coincided with the approach of the page. Mr. Twite was sent scurrying away with a royal sword-pointed warning to not interrupt again. A catgirl that could only have been Merle took position beside him to make sure the king was obeyed. In telling me his story, the page took some satisfaction in adding that Fanel was disarmed quickly in the next round and didn't do much in the ones after, but by the time knight and king were through play-fighting, I was bringing claws to bear on Meiden. Twite insisted that he spoke up as soon as he could and even helped to clear the way for Allen and the Fanelian entourage, only to come back to an empty council chamber with a cheery Dryden Fassa dropping cryptic clues to Hitomi Kanzaki about his bright future nearby.

I should have fired the man for his after-the-fact delivery of a message so important. I think that's what he expected. His job was saved though, by the grace of a good turn in my ever waxing and waning opinion of Allen. I wasn't abandoned. Allen did try to be there. We just couldn't connect at the right time or place.

I've given Allen the benefit of the doubt so many times when we were friends, I don't know if I owe it to him anymore. One more time, though, I'll give it. After all, my annoyances over Hitomi Kanzaki are petty and personal. I left him. I can't be angry with him for keeping her company while not seeking out mine. My annoyances over my sister might not even be applicable any more. I can't be angry with him for leading on Millerna when the only interaction I've seen between the two since her return was a stately display of a knight offering formal congratulations to a princess. As for annoyances over his refusal to let go of his past… I don't know the exact outcome of the meeting with his father but I do know that he spoke calmly, rationally to Hitomi about it. He's never spoken of Leon Schezar before with anything except livid contempt. And if Allen is here, after avoiding this place for so long…

Yesterday, I learned how much my sister had grown from her experiences. Could today I learn the same about Allen?

__

Reconcile that with your jokes, Alucier. But he's stopped the teasing to survey the cemetery we've followed Allen to. A caveat to Mr. Twite keeping his position is the responsibility of knowing Allen's whereabouts at all times. Knowing what memories lurk here, this cemetery is an odd place for Allen to go, but the page has been the model of reliance since he previous failure. He continues to be one as I spot a tall, blond man standing before the grave of a woman that used to be the source of his apprehension of coming here.

The wind kicks up, sending petals of white and pink floating through the air to settle in small piles at the bases of the grave markers. The flowerbeds from which they came line the sides of the cemetery, making the bouquet I brought with me redundant if not for the type of flowers that comprise it.

It was an offhand comment in a conversation about another topic entirely, but I remember Allen pausing in front of palace garden long enough to say the patch of flowers in back looked liked the ones his mother had planted the most. I remember it as clearly as the first and only time Allen and I were ever here together. He brought me to his mother's grave on her birthday, for his first visit there since he had run away from home not long after her death. He had wanted so much to come, yet was reluctant because of guilt over his bandit past. I wanted to be strong for him. I gave him a pretty speech about his mother and how she would never judge him for that. Allen turned around and asked me about my mother. And I answered him. I hadn't spoken to anyone about Mother for years and to Allen, I confessed everything.

That was the moment I realized I was in love with him. In the middle of a cemetery, standing over the grave of his mother with tears streaming from my eyes, I realized I was in love with him.

Maybe I should have taken the hint.

"Something funny?" Alucier asks when he hears my amused sigh.

"A delayed reaction to your clever quips."

"Riiiight."

I let the wind distract me. Great storms of petals brew up and dissipate. Through it all, Encia Schezar's son stands motionless over the ground in which she rests.

"So…" Alucier says. "He's not going to stand there forever, Eries. Are you?"

"No," I answer. Though I could. I've never seen Allen so tranquil when confronted by memories of his family. They were what used to keep him from returning here since that one day. He's even put aside his Caeli uniform, the symbol of the duty he had embraced as his whole life, to wear simple clothes of black and white.

I don't want to interrupt. Strangely though, I don't feel that I will be.

Alucier asks if I want him to come with me. I send him off in search of an uncle of his that's buried here. I won't need a guard. I don't need his support for this.

Allen doesn't notice me coming up behind him. The breeze carries pieces of his whispered words to me, the reverence in the syllables of 'father' make it the most distinct.

Curiosity would have me ask about Leon straight away. Respect for the significance of Allen's family to him defeats curiosity. Still, I can't help but comment on the peculiarity of the circumstances. "This is certainly unusual. You've never prayed in your life and yet here you are in a place like this."

He is surprised but not unhappy to see me. 

Small talk would waste time and seems terribly out of place between us now. "Let go of Millerna. Please. She's finally found happiness." I do not mean this as an edict. It is advice, advice that would benefit him as much as Millerna. I don't believe he will ever find his own happiness without heeding it.

I walk past him, not expecting any response, let alone the one I receive. "I'm relieved to here you say that. If you say so, it must be true."

He still trusts me…

"Dryden's a good man," he continues. "If this marriage were only a way to take the throne… I'd have killed him."

"Allen…" I can't answer this confession. I can't tell if it's borne from underestimated feelings for Millerna or his fierce protectiveness for women in general. He is letting her go, though. There will be no last minute objections to the wedding from him, and therefore, from Millerna when I tell her how this meeting went.

There's so much more I could say, but little reason to say any of it. Alucier's waiting anyway. Turning to go, I'm caught in a crosscurrent of breezes that strips a few petals from the delicate flowers in my hands. They scatter wildly, though a few fly towards the man for whom they hold meaning.

Reflexively, Allen grabs one of the strays. "My mother loved this kind of flower. As I recall, these flowers mean, 'one who cannot be forgotten'."

I know. I didn't forget. I won't ever forget.

I make a tribute of the bouquet to Encia. If, at long last, Allen's beginning to settle the painful memories of his family, may the flowers be a reminder that times of happiness were there too. 

I silently wish him well. Making peace with his past won't be easy. The quiet reflection this cemetery seems to evoke is only a promising start, and not only for that. With hope, I hear Allen's words of gratitude and think that another reconciliation might have been set in motion.

***

Preparations for the wedding began immediately. They had to. Once Meiden got confirmation that Millerna had acquiesced, he put a motion to the council to hold the wedding as soon as possible. Conservative estimates put the preparation time at two months. Meiden went for two weeks. Millerna had dissembled a bit when Meiden asked her exactly when she resolved to marry, claiming that she knew that he, having such a generous son and that had to come from somewhere, didn't it?, would agree with her on that silly Allen matter so she saw no problem with giving her consent before she had heard the actual outcome of his meeting with me. It was a very sweet exchange between the future in-laws, but Meiden knew he had been played once; he wasn't going to give me or anyone else time to do it again.

There's little to plan since it was also decided to make this wedding follow Asturian customs as strictly as possible. That's not to say there isn't a long list of things to do. It would be an insult not to send out invitations to our allies to attend, even if the only way they could get here in time would be to hop on a leviship the second they opened the envelope. Since the feasibility of any foreign sovereigns with the exception of Fanel attending was so low, Meiden got the bright idea that the invitations should at least be personally signed by a member of one of the families involved. I tried to plead poor handwriting, but Meiden argued eloquently on what a lovely message it would send if the bride's sister had her name on every last invitation sent to every last little nation on the entire planet of Gaea. I don't think that satisfied smirk on his face when he spied me shaking out a hand cramp from an all-night signing session was because of a good joke he heard.

In a display of civic duty, I made the suggestion that we hold public feasts to make up for the probability that the official reception would be sparsely attended. The people would come out in droves to watch the ceremony; surely the crown would not send them home empty-stomached in appreciation of that support. Everyone loved the idea, except for Meiden, who had previously agreed that his wife would be in charge of the menu. The extra several thousand mouths to feed with less than two weeks to come up with the food should make for some interesting conversations at the Fassa household.

I doubt I would be as eager to play such petty games with Meiden if my enthusiasm for this wedding hadn't been tempered by worrying about Millerna. By all outward appearances, she's viewing her marriage exactly as I hoped she would. To all her well-wishers, she'll speak merrily of Dryden's good qualities and her confidence in his as yet untested ability to rule. The pre-wedding responsibilities given to her were deliberately light (even lighter for Dryden who is only required to show up for fittings for his wedding regalia and to submit to the ministrations of a barber on the actual morning of his nuptials) and she's taken each one seriously. She's consulted with me on more political choices like who to talk with the most at her engagement party and with Hitomi Kanzaki on lighter issues, such as which flowers to hand out to the commoners that attend. 

But it's not what she's doing so much as the way she's doing it. The difference between sincerity and artifice is subtle for someone that's been trained so heavily in the latter and we princesses have gotten the best education possible. A smile that blossoms too quickly and holds a second too long, nods that are too deep and too many -- I saw all of these signs years ago when Marlene was engaged to Mahad.

And just like her oldest sister, Millerna was allowed to choose her dress, but defaulted to having a gown made in the traditional style. To some extant, I am envious of both my sisters for being able to still look so beautiful while wearing something so simple yet so extravagant. The gown itself is a muted blue-grey, plainly stitched and long in both sleeve and skirt to cover almost every inch of the bride. The headdress it's worn with could be considered overcompensation. Cloth in Asturia's vibrant blue and gold trail off over the bride's head and onto her shoulders. Marlene complained that it was like wearing a large sackcloth on your head and it felt and looked as ridiculous.

Yet she chose it anyway. I know her rationale; it was a symbol that she was only doing this out of duty. I don't find it too farfetched to think Millerna has a similar line of reasoning.

It's foolish. Millerna's doing exactly what I think is best for her and I'm still worrying. I accused Allen of seeing Marlene when he looked at Millerna and here I am doing the same. They're in similar situations but they're entirely different people. I've fought Millerna's stubborn streak enough to know if she were really against marrying Dryden, she simply wouldn't do it. Somehow, someway, she would, as Meiden feared, get out of it. Marlene was more accepting of her fate, except of course, when it came to the man that ties the three of us sisters together.

Would it be so terrible if Millerna did have a marriage like our sister's? Like Dryden, Mahad adored Marlene from the moment he saw her. He wasn't nearly as secure in pursuing her as Dryden was with Millerna, but I imagine both men are alike in how much they'd be willing to do for their wives. After initial doubts, Marlene settled into her new life. Each time I visited and in each letter she wrote, the descriptions she gave of what her brilliant little boy did and his father's proud reaction to it, showed how happy she was. Even if she never came to love Mahad, she cared about him deeply. As good of an actress as she was, there was nothing fake in her taking his arm for no real reason but to be touching him, watching him out of the corner of her eyes or any of the simple things she did that the last time I saw her.

This marriage should have a better start than that one. Millerna's crush on Allen runs deep, but Marlene was actually in a relationship with him, was carrying his child when she said her vows.

Really, there's nothing left to worry about. Dryden will be a good husband. If she gives it a chance, Millerna will be a contented wife. The sooner they get married, the sooner it will happen.

***

By tradition, the day before a royal wedding, the royal family gets to hole up in the location of their choosing and ignore anyone who doesn't share their last name. It started as a day of bonding, of paying homage to family ties and the legacy of Asturia. What it's used for today is as a chance to catch a breath between the non-stop preparations leading up to the wedding and the hectic events of the blessed day itself. I'm not sure when the switch occurred, or if that homage stuff was just an excuse all along, but the plans Millerna and I made do not involve naming any of our ancestor's names or deeds and we're quite pleased with that.

Instead, we'll be visiting with Father for most of the day. Millerna mentioned something the other day about going to the hot baths later, but we haven't set anything in stone. That's fine with me so long as Millerna does something today. It's past noon and she has yet to join me in Father's room. The doctor told me he sees no reason why he can't be at the ceremony before he left. He does look better than he has since the attack. He needed help to do it, but he's sitting up in bed, reacting to me with nods and attempts at speech. He smiles when I suggest that I go find that delinquent sister of mine.

Thinking she's using her light schedule to sleep in, I go straight to her room. I don't really want to disturb her in that case so I don't knock. It's a mistake. Hitomi Kanzaki is exiting the room as I go to enter it and hurriedly so. The psychic doesn't see me and I don't dodge quickly enough. The cards she's holding go flying upon impact.

My reflexes still warming up, I'm able to pick one of the cards out the air while the rest fall at my feet. Hitomi spews out apology after apology without looking to see whom she hit. She's dropped to the floor, I thought to gather up her cards but it's more like she's looking for one in particular. She can be such an odd girl.

Her cards are equally strange. I move to get out of the way of her search and cause one leaning against my foot to flip. There's a man surrounded by four swords on it. Turning over the card in my hand reveals a young man in fine clothes holding a chalice. 

Hitomi finds the card she's after with a sigh of relief. Then, she remembers herself and apologizes a final time. "I'm so sorry, Princess Eries! I didn't know it was you."

"It's all right, Hitomi." I hand her back the two cards I've picked up, tempted to ask her how on Gaea she and Millerna played card games with these things.

She's too rushed to answer. Her deck reassembled, she clutches the cards to her chest, thanks me and runs off at the pace she ran into me at. She's gone so quickly, I can't tell her she missed a card. One of them fluttered across the hall.

Millerna comes out as I bend down to retrieve it. "Eries? What are you doing?"

"Just picking up a card Hitomi left behind." I hold it up for her to look at, but Millerna turns away. She must not have done well at the card games. I don't know what she expected. From the pictures alone, I can tell the people of the Mystic Moon play by some very different rules.

"Have you been to see Father yet?" she asks to change the subject.

"Yes, for several hours, in fact."

But Millerna's not of a mood to be teased. She heads for Father's room, going only a little slower than Hitomi did. I don't want her to get too far ahead. I want to see her face when she sees how much well Father is doing today.

I linger long enough to look at the card and tuck it in a pocket so I can return it later. The picture on this one is a man, a woman and ten of those chalices.

Very, very different rules.

***

It's glorious today. Breezy spring weather has usurped the normal wet heat Asturia endures this time of the year. It doesn't just benefit the mass of people lining the canals and streets leading to the grand cathedral, but the principals of the event those people have come to witness. It just doesn't do to have the future king and queen covered with sweat at their wedding. 

Anticipation could potentially make up for the absence of heat, but Millerna's holding up well this morning, despite the commotion of last minute preparations going on outside and an earlier, highly unexpected visitor. Millerna said the Moleman had been by to offer her advice. She didn't say what the advice was or if she was going to take it. Nor did she say how he got into her room to begin with, as she had sounded surprised to find him there. Honestly, I had forgotten he was still was on palace grounds. Making himself scarce is one of his skills. I know the man hadn't meant her any harm; other possible intruders might not. So I sent for extra guards to be posted out in the hall. Millerna didn't seem to care, but through the din made by the swarm of handmaidens fussing over her, she might not have heard the orders. I hope she at least heard me tell her how proud I am of her.

I was politely shown the door by the lead handmaiden before I could find out. I am a princess, true, but not the princess getting married today and therefore, I am only a woman in the way of getting Millerna's hair and make-up being done to perfection.

I still have duties as a daughter. This will be the first time Father's left his bedchamber in weeks and the first look most people have had of him since word got out about his health. It won't be a close look. Father and I will watch the wedding from the balcony directly above the officiating priest. We won't be able to see him at all, but we'll have a good view the bride and groom and half of Asturia will have a tiny view of us. It's important that he's there. For the people, for Millerna, for me and for him.

For one other person too. Meiden's bickering with Father's doctors when I stop by to check in on him. It doesn't take long to ascertain the problem. The doctor says it's all right for Father to appear in public, but only as long as a doctor or two appears with him. Meiden won't have it. For a change, I agree with him.

"Couldn't you wait out of sight?" I ask. "In the event that you are needed, how long could it take to come somewhere nearby?"

"Too long," the tall doctor with the beard says. Short doctor and young doctor concur.

"Please," Meiden says, "You just want the glory of standing by the king. I imagine the publicity of having such a patient would do wonders for each of your practices."

__

Not everyone thinks like you, Meiden. I shouldn't think like that. He is on my side right now. "I know Father's health is on all our minds, but there are other concerns -- "

"His daughter is getting married today," Meiden interrupts, "He will be there as a proud father and dignified king."

Young doctor is green enough to believe he has a chance at successful persuasion. He holds up recent reports on Father's health that no one takes and affects his best version of a doctor with good bedside manner. Meiden has him cowed in less than a minute. In two, all three doctors are in agreement that Father will do just fine today but on the extremely off chance that their services might be needed, they'll find a room in the cathedral to use for a temporary infirmary. In fact, they believe it best if they go pick out that room right now.

For his part, Meiden receives a slight, barely intelligible thank-you. He cocks an eyebrow, daring me to say it louder and like I mean it.

"Thank you, Meiden." Supposedly, one can take comfort in being the bigger person. "I'm sure Father will appreciate your efforts. I do."

He breathes deeply, giving him time to switch from his instinctual response to a more carefully phrased reply. "We all want what is best for Grava and for Asturia. We might have different ideas on what that constitutes, but sometimes, those differences need to be set aside. I hope you enjoy the ceremony, Princess. I will."

A truce, however tenuous, with Meiden must be a good sign. In only a few hours, my sister will be married and all of Asturia will be celebrating. A private war doesn't belong in such an event.

***

And I thought the weather was glorious. The barges have just cleared the bridge over the canal, giving everyone their first look at Millerna in full glamour. Light plays off the water, forming shimmering patterns on her dress and lending her the radiance of an expectant bride. Dryden doesn't need the sunlight. Cleaned of his perennial fosterling beard and clad in the stateliest Asturian fashion, he's almost unrecognizable, except for the warm smile that his love for Millerna gives him. Behind me, the group of handmaidens selected to attend to Father (and ostensibly me) gasp in unison. Meiden too, makes a happy grunt of approval. 

*This* is how a royal wedding is done. 

Asturia's best guymelefs ring the yard of the cathedral. Our best knights line the platform at which Millerna and Dryden's individual barges will dock and the two will join each other to walk down aisle leading to the priest. Every inch of space in the yard beyond the melefs is filled. Wealthy, poor. Human, beastman. They're all here, clutching the flowers they were given and watching with hope and anticipation. As figured, no foreign royalty made the trip here -- I don't think Fanel came, either -- but they aren't needed. This is Asturia's moment.

I'm not a sentimentalist, but even I can't fight the knot of giddiness that rises and unfurls into feelings of elation as the priest reads the wedding scripture. Lingering worries about Millerna fade in the face of the unity I feel with my family and my people. It only fitting when Father places his hand over the one I put down on the arm of his chair.

I think, _isn't this perfect?_

It's followed by, _why is Hitomi Kanzaki running down the aisle?_

She's screaming. Between her distance from me and ambient noise from the crowd, what she's screaming is lost but it does not sound like congratulations. She's too frantic. Something must be wrong. This can't be a custom of the Mystic Moon. Her foot catches on a ripple in the runner underneath and she falls. Watching her, I almost miss the moment when Dryden and Millerna seal their union with the traditional kiss.

A giant shadow falls across the courtyard. The knot reforms, tighter and more distressing, as I -- and everyone else -- looks up and sees the source. It looks like an eclipse. Dryden even mistakes it for one. But he wasn't here in Palas when this shadow first appeared. When it spent days hanging above us before it left to lord over Freid instead. Zaibach's floating fortress has returned.

The guymelef flying down from it leave no doubts that they are not here to talk treaties. Sleeker than most of the machines and almost feminine in its curves and in the silver, hair-like substance flowing from the head, it nonetheless shrieks hostile intent. It hovers in the sky, daring us to take the first formal strike.

Dryden scoops Millerna up in his arms and runs for shelter. Whoever does make the first move, at least she will be sheltered from it. The shock of this sudden appearance makes the rest of move slower. There's almost a hypnotic quality to Zaibach's machine, so still there up in the sky in its lethal grace. Who knows how long I would have stared at if I hadn't been startled by Father stammering out the first clear words in weeks?

"Zaibach? But why?" I wish I knew. Why now, why at all.

Our guards try to mount an attack. Half rush to the armaments that had been put in place as decoration; half try to control the panicked exodus of the crowd. Those guards meet with some success. The courtyard begins to empty, slowly so that no one is trampled in an escape attempt that would be more deadly than the actual attack.

The others are having trouble. They're yelling at each other that nothing's working. A bow gun misfires. Another pitches forward, it's mechanism broken. Melef pilots stand uselessly before their machines. They can't even board them to mount a defense.

And just when things couldn't look worse, the sky darkens further and the weather itself turns against us. Lightning flares and splinters above. Streaks of it come uncomfortably close to the church. The air crackles and burns.

I think it is past time to follow Dryden's example. Father's wheelchair isn't heavy, but negotiating the stairs takes care. Finding the safest place needs more consideration. We can't tell what's happening outside anymore but the loud cracks of noise are not promising. The rumbling we hear isn't thunder, but the structure of the church as it buckles under the force of an assault. Natural or man-made, it doesn't matter. We need to get out of here.

Dust coming from the ceiling makes it hard to see and breathe. We keep moving, not sure where to go but down. The upper floors and outer rooms are the least safe. This room doesn't look good either. That room doesn't exist anymore. We're more or less carrying Father now. Meiden and a handmaiden on one side, me and another on the other. We've sent a third ahead to scout for a spot of some security. She hasn't come back yet.

Rounding the corner on this last flight of stairs, we see she won't ever be back. Several stone slabs in the ceiling were shaken loose. They must have fallen so fast, she didn't have time to react. We've no place to go now. The stones are blocking our way and are too heavy to move even if we wanted to go near them.

We wait. One of the handmaidens prays. Meiden curses Zaibach with futile threats of what he'll do if his son is killed. My own thoughts are of family. I've slouched beside Father's chair and taken his hand. He clutches it back, harder than I thought possible but the minor pain is nothing compared to the reassurance it gives me. He can't say it, but I know he's wondering if her new husband was able to keep Millerna safe.

Finally, the pounding of the storm stops. No more explosions or crashes. Smoke seeps into the church, the second time Zaibach's set fire to the city. Through the stillness, a familiar voice is projected over the courtyard and into the church. Even through the unnatural amplification, the quiet tenor of Strategos Folken is unmistakable.

He wants Hitomi Kanzaki. He's ordering us to turn her over.

"Is that was this is about?" Meiden shouts. "That girl from the Mystic Moon?"

The handmaidens blanch. The disaster today fits in well with all the horror stories told about the 'cursed' Mystic Moon. They must think Asturia is reaping its just desserts for harboring one of its natives. Hitomi would make an excellent scapegoat. A strange girl from a strange place bringing tragedy to whomever harbors her. Given the concessions we made with Freid, Meiden and the council would hand her over wrapped in a bright bow. From a practical standpoint, the life of one person certainly isn't worth more than the lives of an entire city.

But it doesn't feel right to simply offer her up as a sacrifice. Millerna may have been distressed after Hitomi's visit yesterday, but by all other accounts, the two have become close friends. Whatever changes are going on with Allen, I have the impression that Hitomi plays no small part in them. And she's just a girl. What could Zaibach want with her? What would they do to her?

No decision has to be made. On her own, Hitomi has come forward. Her voice rises up out in the courtyard, quivering but determined, as she proclaims her name.

A brave move, a bold move. I hope it is not also a foolish move.

***

Author's Notes -- Though I collect tarot cards, it's only for the pretty artwork. My knowledge of what the cards actually mean is pretty limited. I used this website -- www. aeclectic. net/index. html. Sorry, ff.net hates URLs now, so you'll have to delete some spaces in there -- for all information. I've added some more fan art by Sakura to my Eries site. The page isn't finished or properly linked yet, but all of the pictures are available at -- www. geocities. com/eriesariaaston. fanart. html.

Author's Notes Part 2 -- Some minor editing on the last section, including grammar, some bits on chronology and who says what. Yep, Folken's voice is unmistakable to everyone but me. ^_^ This is what I get for only watching through an episode once before writing and with the audio off because I just wanted a visual impression. It was the only time I've done that for this fic too. Many thanks to Ron and his Sakura, Wintermute and Rad for pointing out errors.

Next up -- One unhappy chapter to go before this fic ends on two upbeat ones. (Seriously, I have a happy ending planned!) Of course, it's kind of a big unhappy thing that happens -- My Best Friend's Engagement.


	9. Allen and the Mysterious Disappearances ...

"Always…"

VIII: Allen and the Mysterious Disappearance(s) of Hitomi 

"There's two of those guymelefs now! A gold one to match the silver. There's a big, white lump on the courtyard near them. Wait, I think that it's the dragon guymelef that flew over Palas the other week! It's not doing anything at all. I wonder if that was the loud crashing sound we heard earlier? The silver one has that girl in those… metallic, sort of… rope… things. Oh! The king of Fanelia is going after her! He's got his sword! He's lunging! He's almost got her! He's…! Oh. I hope he's all right."

It's not the most well told narrative ever, but we all listen fixedly to the handmaiden's description of the events unfolding outside. Since it was decided that a princess should not stand on other people's shoulders to get a peek through the small, courtyard-faced window above us, I don't have a choice -- even though it was my idea in the first place. Meiden and both the handmaidens protested that it was too dangerous for me but they didn't have a problem doing it themselves. Until they got into it, that is. Watching Meiden and the blonde handmaiden struggle to keep our narrator aloft while maintaining their own footing, I can't say I resent not being able to see things for myself. Neither Meiden nor his fellow human ladder is particularly tall, but they're standing on a decent sized pile of debris. A fall onto the stone stairway would not feel pleasant.

Brave, oblivious or very dutiful, the handmaiden keeps talking despite her precarious position. "What? The sun's coming out! Those guymelefs… They looked like they were ready to attack again, but now they're… well… now they're just standing there. Oh! The one dropped the Mystic Moon girl! Fanelia is going after her, but I don't know if he'll be able to reach her… One of our Caeli got her! Allen Schezar…"

Of course he would be there in the thick of it. Death before seeing a woman looked at funny and all that. Two fully armed enemy guymelefs that just leveled a part of the city wouldn't be a strong enough deterrent to keep him from trying to save an unknown damsel in distress, let alone a girl he is close to. He'd better watch himself. I didn't like hearing Millerna tell me about his injury long after the fact. If that handmaiden starts describing the same thing while I'm stuck in here, helpless to do anything but listen…

Other Caeli should be safe. As captain of the guard, Revius would have taken charge of either the evacuation or the coordination of defense. In both cases, he should enjoy the shelter a commander enjoys of seldom being on the front line. Alucier is probably calculating the best way to get to me. He knows he's no good to me dead, so he won't make any rash moves that would get him here more quickly but also might get him killed. At heart, he can have the same chivalrous notions Allen does. Alucier's notions, however, have a heftier dose of self-preservation mixed into them.

Thank the gods Damise had to go back to Dunhaven last week instead of attending the wedding like she wanted. Worrying about her as well might have been one distraction too many. I've already plotted out several courses Dryden could have taken when he carried Millerna off. Too many of them lead to collapsed areas of the church. 

"The Zaibach guymelefs still aren't doing anything. They look like they're… shaking? Something really odd is going on."

Odd, but fortuitous for us. The guymelefs are soon flying away in retreat -- without another attempt at Hitomi Kanzaki, the handmaiden makes sure to point out. She doesn't understand and neither do I. To come here as they did, when they did, to lay waste to this holy place, to kill who knows how many people and to leave with nothing… What was the point of it?

They could have come here as they did before in the guise of our allies and demanded that Hitomi be turned over on some pretense. Under the terms of our treaty, we would have been forced to listen to them and, probably, concede. Were they afraid that the council would balk at the ethics that would have us trading a human life? That someone like Fanel, their former target, would smuggle Hitomi out of the country in the interim? Or did they just not want to wait? They know they have power. Why would they mess with a foreign country's paperwork when they can come in and take what they want? 

Zaibach's ethics on human life are clear. It was expedient for them to attack us, so to hell with our treaty. We can't pretend that it didn't happen or can't happen again. The belief that turning a blind eye to Zaibach's activities would, in turn, blind them to us was brutally proved false. Fanel and Allen's early warnings about Zaibach came true. Placating them with Freid wasn't enough to spare us.

And although it provides a bit of grim satisfaction, the fact that they left without Hitomi just means that they will be back to get her. How will we be waiting for them when they come? We have but two choices -- resistance or fearful capitulation -- but they both will boil down to one truth: we cannot hide from the future Zaibach has planned.

***

It's not long after the Zaibach guymelefs have fled that we hear the shouts of a rescue party. They can't move all the stones but they clear enough from the top away to fit a person through. We agree that Father needs to go first. He hasn't said anything since Zaibach first attacked. Though that isn't a great departure from his normal condition, it isn't a good sign either. We can't quite lift him out ourselves so a volunteer comes from the other side to assist. I'm not surprised that it's Alucier.

His overskirt is adapted into a kind of sling to help ferry Father over the rocks. It takes a good amount of coordination and strength, but Father's through and being swarmed by doctors in a matter of minutes. Meiden gets through on his own; the handmaidens wait for me. I order them to go first. They deserve it and besides, I'd like to have a word with my guard before well-meaning caretakers, who won't let me know the real extent of the damage, can surround me.

The Caeli uniform is basically blue coveralls over a white silk shirt. With the overskirt, it has elegant lines that flow from the wearer's hip and move around with him in a show of grace. Without the overskirt, the Caeli… honestly, he looks a little like a boy in a jumpsuit playing at being a swordsman. Alucier himself was the one that came up with the description though I'm usually the one using it against him. Would that I could indulge in just a fraction of that silliness, if only for a moment, to push away the past hour. 

But there's a body lying a few steps away from me -- the body of the woman who did not think twice about scouting ahead to help protect her king and princess -- and I won't do her the disrespect.

From Alucier's serious calm, I can tell she's not the only dead among us. I'm afraid to ask him who some of the others might be, but delaying the truth never changes what it is.

"Is Millerna…?"

"She's fine," he's quick to say. "Not a scratch on her."

"And Dryden?"

"He will be fine. Come on, let's get out of here."

"But what about -- ?"

"Most of the causalities were in the crowd."

That's not quite the reassurance I want. As I start my ascent of the debris, I list names. He answers them all with a terse 'fine'. At the top, I get a hint of what might be bothering him as he lingers for a last look at the dead handmaiden. That the only difference between her and me was a matter of a minute's worth of walking was my first, humbling thought when I saw her. The man assigned for the past six years to protect me from any and all harm must have thought the same thing.

"I'm fine, too," I say.

"I know," he says as he comes up behind me. He holds his hand just above my head so I won't hit it against the ceiling.

***

Millerna is fine and without scratches as promised. Her dress is torn and damp with blood, but she did most of the tearing and the blood isn't hers. It belongs to her husband.

Over protest, Dryden sent the doctor that came to look at him to another part of the church to help with the wounded. There are people in much worse shape than he is, he insists. He doesn't, however, tell Millerna to stop fussing over him. She's got him bandaged up well, with what appears to be the sleeves of her wedding dress. It's not enough to soothe her. The cut on his forehead still bothers her. She's also worried that the rock that hit him might have caused internal bleeding. The only way to be sure, she concludes, is to bring the doctor back. Everyone agrees with her except the injured party. I don't know if Dryden's being obstinate because he really believes he doesn't need medical attention or if it's because he's enjoying the other kind of attention he's getting now. I've never seen Millerna be so tender with him.

Tenderness only goes so far. Stubbornness and reluctance collide and the two have the first fight of their marriage. Millerna wins after a fierce round 'I do not!' and 'You do too!' ends with Dryden trying to laugh at the inherent inanity of the fight and coughing painfully instead. As a consolation, she stays with him while Meiden goes to fetch the doctor. 

"I should have hobbled over there with him," Dryden complains weakly when Millerna starts to tell Alucier and me how Dryden received his injuries. She shushes him. There won't be any self-deprecating interruptions to her story about the brave man who saved her life by using his body to shield hers. The action parts of the story aren't long; the reaction parts don't seem to have an end.

After she calls him brave for the second time, Dryden starts to pull himself up off the ground. "I am going to hobble over there," he announces.

"Don't be foolish!" she says, but she does help him. It takes Alucier's assistance to get him upright, though Millerna's the one Dryden leans on. The three shamble towards the doctor, Dryden continuing to insist that neither his heroics nor his injuries are anything to be concerned about. I don't believe him for a second. From the way he holds onto Millerna, it's obvious he can't stand without her. The way Millerna holds onto to him conveys something subtler.

"Dryden is all right, isn't he?"

It's Hitomi. She looks shaken and a little scuffed, but otherwise uninjured. Allen hovers behind her protectively. Van Fanel takes a similar stance slightly farther away. Hitomi fiddles with the hem of her skirt rather than looking at any of us.

"He's in good spirits. Though I'm not sure that's positive proof considering whom we're talking about," I say. "By the way, that was very brave of you to confront those two guymelefs on your own."

She looks less pleased with being described as such than Dryden did. Fanel scowls as if to say that she shouldn't have had to do it alone.

"I had to. They were after me," Hitomi explains. Her voice is so low, I'm not sure if the explanation is meant for me. "This was my fault."

"Don't blame yourself for Zaibach's attack, Hitomi," Fanel snarls. "This is what they do. They destroy. They kill. They don't care. If they weren't after you, they would have found some other excuse to do this."

"Van…"

"He's right, Hitomi," Allen says. He tries to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but Hitomi turns away.

"You don't understand, Allen. When I did the tarot card reading for Millerna, I saw… I didn't like what I saw so I tried to change it. But I didn't change anything! I made it worse!"

The men apparently understand what she's saying though they look troubled by it. I'm completely confused. "Wait, tarot cards -- are they those odd cards you had when you ran into me the other day? They somehow let you see that this attack would happen?"

Hitomi seems to be through talking. Fanel and Allen try to fill in for her, piecing together a description of the cards and how Hitomi uses them. They testify to her accuracy with them at first, but when they come to today's events, both of them feel the need to clarify that the cards are subject to interpretation. It all sounds like rubbish to me.

"You're telling me that because a certain card with a certain picture gets dealt in a certain way, certain events will occur? That the future is already set for us and all we have to do is play cards to see what we have to do?"

"It's more complicated than that," Allen says. He doesn't say how it's more complicated and I suspect he doesn't know. I think the only one who truly understands is Hitomi.

"What exactly did you see?" I ask her.

She looks askance at Allen and blushes. Slowly, Hitomi tells us why she feels she's to blame. "Millerna asked me to do a reading on the wedding. I didn't want to at first, but she's my friend and she really did want to know, so I agreed. The cards… they made it clear she was nervous, that she wasn't sure about the wedding. I didn't tell her that, though. I made it sound like the wedding was a great idea and that she'd be really happy."

"Hitomi," I sigh, "if that's all, than you and I are guilty of the same thing. I thought Millerna might have some doubts about marrying Dryden but I pushed them aside because I honestly believe what you said -- that in the end, she will be happy. I just didn't realize she was nervous enough to seek you out to do one of your readings."

"No, it's worse than that. I saw her with… I saw that she wasn't thinking about Dryden. But I… I thought she should be thinking of him and then I saw the vision of the tower falling. It was the same tower that got struck by lightning and collapsed! And I didn't want to see that either so I put another card on top. I thought I could make that card come true instead. I tried to change things. I didn't warn anyone."

"Do you think that would have changed anything anyway?" Fanel asks. "I know your power. I trust it. But do you think anyone here would have listened?" 

"No, we wouldn't have." I'm still not convinced about those cards after being given 'proof'. The council would have treated Hitomi was smirking condescension and sent her on her way, assuming that they let her talk at all. What would she have said to them? Millerna's unsure about the wedding? That's not cause for alarm. What woman facing an arranged marriage wouldn't have second thoughts? I thought Millerna had settled her crush on Allen (Hitomi does need to learn to make her references more oblique) but learning that she hasn't isn't terribly shocking news. Hitomi's apparent motivation of wanting Allen for herself for lying is suited for court gossip, not councilmen discussion. As for the attack, a falling tower doesn't lead a lot of people to the natural conclusion that an ally is about to send troops into the city.

"But I…" Hitomi protests. She's determined not to be comforted. Fanel keeps trying regardless. Allen's the one standing by silently, watching Hitomi as if gauging what Millerna's card reading means for the other people involved. I could point out that Millerna's future sounds suspiciously like Marlene's past and the longer that marriage lasted, the better it became. It's best though, not to mention my older sister around a contemplative Allen.

Alucier returns with the suggestion that I go back to the palace. Dryden and Millerna, along with Father, have already gone ahead on doctor's orders. Hitomi wants to stay behind and help with relief efforts. Fanel needs to check on his guymelef, Escaflowne. Allen's offer to stay with Hitomi is turned down by Alucier. After seeing his men caught unprepared and being virtually useless against Zaibach, Lord Ramkin wants to have a word with the Caeli. 

There's not a lot they could have done, but that rarely stops people from thinking they should have done something anyhow.

***

The damage assessments start coming in during the late afternoon. All but a few stubborn fires have been put out. Rubble is beginning to be cleared away. Every now and then, a story circulates about a survivor being found. Those stories get passed around, mishearing and hopeful exaggeration adding a bit here and a piece there until an old man who lost a leg to a fire is restored to full health along with his home and three generations of his family. No corrections are made to these tales. The people need to hear them. Proof is secondary to desire when it comes to belief.

Some reports are positive without any embellishment. The main structure of the church is in good shape; the ceiling and the walls have been stable since the attack. As a precaution, they are being shorn up and sections deemed still dangerous are closed off from the public. More than anything else, keeping that church open is a symbol that we did survive. To that end, Dryden's been roused from the sickbed he didn't want to get into to begin with, given a crutch and sent with Millerna and me (and a compliment of three Caeli) to put in a morale-boosting public appearance there. 

I like that better than the stories.

The people seem to respond to it, too. Haggard and back in his usual, un-Asturian loose robes, the new prince is nonetheless an attraction. Millerna and I leave him be and go to the tent that's been set up as a sort of crisis center. Hitomi's there, never having left from this morning. Fanel and the catgirl, Merle, are with her, distributing care packages of food and bandages. Millerna presses Seclas into service, insisting that between them, Allen and Alucier are sufficient to watch over everyone. It's against orders, but it does make better use of him. It's unlikely anything will get out of hand. Dryden's working the crowd and even has drawn a few laughs. A part of it is natural affability; another part, I suspect, is the crutch. Dryden didn't suffer as much as they did, but he was hurt. He has a glimpse of their pain.

It's a bond on which neither Millerna nor I wish to intrude. The packages start running low and I go looking for Alucier. I want to walk around the immediate area to get a sense of how bad things really are. However, he too has temporarily abandoned his guard duties to help with a young family trying to clear broken glass out of their damaged home.

I ask myself out loud if anyone would notice if I did the survey by myself. The answer is a definite yes. When I turn around to leave, Allen's there.

"You should stay here. But if you insist on going, you'll need an escort."

Except no escorts are available other than him. And he's not really available. He's got more people than me to look out for. Not having a solution, I don't say anything.

"Seclas should be free any minute now. He can keep an eye on the others. I could take you," he offers kindly. It loses some effect when he finishes by addressing me with my title.

We walk in silence. It's not strictly because of the distance that remains between us; it would be wrong to chat away while stepping through the ruins of peoples' lives. The cathedral was made of stone and built carefully with no expense spared. The houses surrounding it weren't. They were row houses, built quickly and close together because the people who lived in them couldn't afford more. The wood used in their construction was little more than kindling to those Zaibach guymelefs. There is the consolation that the majority of the residents were at the wedding instead of being trapped inside.

Back at the cathedral, Millerna has rejoined Dryden. Hitomi is talking to them about something; judging from the pensive way she's holding her hands together, she's probably expressing more guilt over what she perceives as her role in the disaster. Millerna looks like she's reassuring her. 

"I just don't see how pictures on cards could have stopped this from happening," I say.

"No, they couldn't. I don't think they're supposed to change anything, except maybe how you look at things." 

There's something in his voice that begs the question, "Did she ever do one of those 'readings' for you?"

"Once," he says noncommittally. He waits long enough that I don't expect him to continue, let alone in the way that he does. "She read my past and my future, or what the future was at the time. She told me about my father, what he had done, how I felt about him. I had told her about Mother and Celena but I hadn't said a thing about him. But she knew. And she knew that I would see him again."

How could she have known that? She could have detected the hostility for his father by Leon's absence from the family background Allen gave her. Accurately predicting that they would meet again is entirely different. She could have been guessing but that would have been one extraordinarily lucky guess.

I don't feel like sharing my eavesdropping habits so I have to ask him if she was right.

"Yes. I saw him in Atlantis. I mean, I saw his spirit. Zaibach killed him a long time ago."

"And?"

"And he… I'm sorry. You wanted to know more about Hitomi's abilities."

No, that's not what I wanted to know. I can't force Allen to talk about Leon, though. I could never force him to do it when we were still friends. "I'm just curious about what she can do. Both you and Fanel place your faith in her."

"Given all that's she done, it would foolish not to believe in her. It's more than her cards or the pendant. She has these visions. She has these insights."

"And they change the way you look at things…" I echo his earlier words. They must. I remember how he talked to Hitomi about Leon. I remember how he was at the cemetery, that feeling of peace I sensed in him. 

Inner peace through the psychic visions of a Mystic Moon girl. It sounds like the signs you see propped up in front of the tents of the carnival seers that travel from town to town. The text is always written in bold curls of paint over two pearl moons; the tent is a composition of exotic fabrics from the seer's homeland far, far away. But when you look closer, the paint is chipping and covering an advertisement from last year's fair. The tent is a patchwork of threadbare remnants of the carnival staffs' old clothes soaked in cheap dye. The seer is usually a local girl, wrapped in skirts, plated jewelry and a scarf with a black, braided wig underneath, reading off lines taught to her by the woman who held the job before her. 

That's not Hitomi Kanzaki. True artifice isn't in her capacity. That might be the most convincing argument for the authenticity of her psychic gifts. The one lie she's told about them brought her so much guilt, that she took responsibility for an entire country's act of aggression. Millerna must have been persuasive though, in that regard. Hitomi's done with her hand wringing and happily volunteering for another shift in the relief effort. She convinces Merle to join her and tries for one more person but Fanel mutters something about Escaflowne as an excuse. His back turned from Hitomi but not me, he smiles at his companion's returned enthusiasm. 

She can make the king of Fanelia smile. She helped Allen make peace with his father. That girl has to be blessed with special powers. 

Humor aside, I don't think any Hitomi's real gift is supernatural at all. She's all openness, giving it herself and drawing it out in others. It's a quality I admire. I know I don't posses it myself. I've only recently taken steps in that direction with Millerna and that progress is still hindered by the tall, blond obstacle standing to my left.

Allen's smiling too, that old casual smile I recognize from the times when he would drop his guard and relax. It was rare to catch him in that mood and I made sure to take advantage of it every time. Usually, I'd get him to take me into the city where we'd just drift without destination or topic at hand. I used to take so much pleasure in those days of doing nothing, of just being with him without anything or anyone else pressing in, of seeing that smile.

I still do. The smile may be because of Hitomi Kanzaki, but it's there. He's happy -- something I thought he could never be. The one thing I always wanted most for him.

***

Palas almost breathes a sigh of relief at dusk. Finally, this day is over and everything can be safely put in the past tense. Weary and contemplating a very early bedtime, I flinch when I hear the yell out in the courtyard.

"VAAAAAAAAAN-SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMAAA!!"

A dozen or so voices answer it with the request to be quiet. One person is more to the point and tells the speaker to shut up. There's a pause -- presumably long enough for a catgirl to give a defiant glare -- and then it starts up again.

"VAAAAAAAAAN-SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMAAA!!"

Rushing to my window, I catch sight of two guards running out to intercept Merle. They are apparently on the side for quiet. There's a lot of gesturing by the two of them and a lot of jostling around to block Merle as she tries to continue on her way. Then there's a hiss and the sound of claws slicing through a puffed sleeve.

"THIS IS IMPORTANT!"

The guards, a bit dumbstruck, watch her storm away. Tail up, teeth and claws bared -- I wouldn't bother her either.

Van-Sama finally heeds the call and emerges from the palace. He doesn't get hugged or licked on the face. Merle doesn't even grab his arm. Instead, she violently waves a shoe in front of his face. She's crying and screaming all at once so her story's hard to make out but the essence of it is this:

She and Hitomi were helping out with the laundry in the shelter that was set up in the south wing of the palace for the people left homeless by this morning's attack. Hitomi was supposed to be delivering fresh linens to each room but she never came back from delivering her last stack. Merle thought Hitomi might have gotten tired from having such a long day and quit, but it didn't make much sense that she would leave one of her shoes behind, did it?

Fanel doesn't waste time. He takes off for the south wing, leaving Merle behind to mouth 'Van-sama' once more. The guards decide that it might be a good idea to check Hitomi's room before sounding an alarm but they don't sound as if they think they'll find a single-shoed girl inside. 

I thought Zaibach would come back to get her. I never would have assumed that it would be this quickly. Who else could it be? It's too much of a coincidence that the girl they were after would disappear so shortly after their first attempt failed.

Everyone else must be thinking of Zaibach too. The amount of guards responding to this doesn't jibe with Hitomi's status. Within twenty minutes, a full alert has been raised. Guards patrol the palace; they won't let anyone take advantage of this distraction to abscond with anyone else. They pass me on their routes and warn me to go back into my room, which is good advice that I don't follow. I'm a bit concerned about Merle. She wanted to be with Millerna but my sister had to turn her away to take care of Dryden after the hearing the news. With nowhere to go, she's pacing the hallway in front of my room. She's still clutching the shoe.

She nearly throws it at Revius when he arrives and questions her about Hitomi's disappearance. He's half-asleep and still getting the details of his Caeli uniform in order. The former is cured when Merle takes advantage of the latter by grabbing his cravat and smacking him with it.

"For the third time! I saw Hitomi leave. Hitomi didn't come back. I found her shoe on the steps. That's all I really know!" The interview concluded to her satisfaction, she goes to the large windows at the end of the hall. Escaflowne has taken to Palas' skies again; it's owner intent on conducting his own search.

"I guess I should be grateful she didn't hit me the shoe," Revius grumbles.

From down the hall, Merle brings attention to something more ominous than an agitated catgirl and the footwear she wields. "Allen! I'm so glad you're here! Have you heard about Hitomi?"

That would be my guess. He strides past Merle and heads directly for the captain of the palace guard.

"How could you let this happen?" he shouts at Revius. "You knew Zaibach wanted her and you didn't assign anyone to look after her?"

"She's not Asturian. She's not a foreign official. I didn't receive any orders stating otherwise so it's not within my purview to single her out for special guard duty."

"Not within your purview?! Your duty is to ensure the safety of everyone in this palace. If -- "

"I know what my duties are, Allen. And you're right about making sure everyone's safe. Which is precisely why I can't sacrifice men to watch over one girl and leave an entire section of the palace unguarded. You know how packed this palace is with refugees. You know how on edge everyone is. That's not an easy situation. And if you were that damned worried about her, you should have kept an eye on her yourself."

But that's why he's yelling at you, Revius. He already feels the guilt. This fight is an attempt to throw it off onto someone else before it can sink in entirely. A half-hearted attempt -- Allen can so love a good wallow in his responsibilities.

Revius wasn't Allen's roommate for several years without learning something about him. He backs off and tries a different tack. "That's not really relevant now. She's missing; we've got to find her. I'm pulling everyone who is off-duty and I'm putting them on the search. I talked to Merle. Whoever took her doesn't have that much of a lead time on us."

"Yeah," Merle yells down the hall, thinking she's being helpful, "I know it wasn't more than an hour from when she left to when I found her shoe."

"An hour?! She could be anywhere by now!"

"Oh, now you decide to be forthcoming," Revius hisses at Merle. Her tail goes rigid as she literally hisses back.

"We don't know if it's been an hour," I say. "For all we know, Hitomi was taken seconds before Merle came along. She reported it right away -- " Merle is slower to affirm this than is promising -- "and we started looking for her right away. You had to have seen Fanel out on his guymelef. He can spot from above what we might miss."

Merle's second stab at helping is much better than the first. "Van-sama found her before when she got kidnapped. Remember? Nothing can out fly him on Escaflowne and Hitomi taught him all that creepy pendant stuff. He'll find her in no time."

No time isn't short enough for Allen. He demands that Revius tell him the name of every man on the search and exactly where they're searching. He thinks more guards should be searching around the Meifia Bridge. It is the main path to the countryside from the city proper. He doesn't give Revius the chance to assign him to the area.

"We're not going to get any sleep tonight, are we?" Merle sighs.

I don't but she does, eventually. Merle's intention was to take up a post by Millerna's door so she could keep her apprised of the latest news. By midnight, she's curled into a tight ball and sleeping deeply. Her purring gives a soft hum to the bustle of the thorough, and noisy, search Revius has organized. Guards pass under my window at regular intervals, either rushing after the latest lead or off to question potential witnesses. Just when I start to doze, some small noise will disturb me. The strangest sounds carry on still nights like these.

Revius keeps me informed personally, which is to say, he stops by every other hour to tell me they haven't found Hitomi. When dawn comes without any progress, he makes the call to add leviships to the search methods. He pretends that he was only waiting to use them until there was enough light because the real reason is too pessimistic. It's been so long. They need leviships to expand the boundaries of the search. Even on horseback, Hitomi and her captors could have reached the border to the south. Or they could be in the thick forests up north. Or entering the swamps. They could be anywhere.

I have breakfast sent up. It will be a distraction. More so, when the handmaiden delivering the meal steps on Merle's tail. Dishes clank against the floor and form islands rising above the puddles of juice. Merle's fur, the parts not soaked through anyway, stands on end and the handmaiden backs away from her slowly. 

No words or blows are exchanged. A bright beam of light streaks up and across the sky and all arguments are forgotten. As if sensing the source, Merle whispers her Van-sama's name and takes off down the stairs.

Pressing her hands against the window, the handmaiden moans, "No, they can't still be here."

'They' being Zaibach and their damned floating fortress. It's over the ocean, a good distance from the palace and recognizable only because of the shape. That doesn't assuage much dread. They could be on top of us in minutes; they could float blithely over the city while everyone below cowers with the knowledge of what will come next. The only thing between the city and the fortress is Fanel's guymelef. Up against Zaibach's black monolith, it's a white speck, a gnat bothering a great lumbering beast.

The thing about gnats though, is just how bothersome they can be. So hard to hit, so persistent. One little bug flying in the right place at the right time can drive a person mad. 

One Escaflowne in the right place at the right time can drive a fortress into the ocean.

I don't believe what I'm seeing at first. The handmaiden thinks that Zaibach might be descending to attack us but it isn't descending, it's tilting, falling. Trails of smoke and spots of orange pop up and begin to consume the face of the fortress. It's hypnotic to watch. I know that it's manned. I know that there are people inside who are frightened and desperately trying to save themselves but those people knew the same thing when they struck at Millerna's wedding. When the fortress hits the water, all I can think is that they can't hurt us again.

The cheers start immediately. The few people who didn't see have plenty of accounts to catch them up on what they missed. Millerna peeks out of her bedroom to see what the noise is about and I share my own.

There's one more piece of good news. Merle reappears, panting hard but with a wide smile on her face. Millerna forces her to take several deep, calming breathes before she lets her talk.

Merle blurts it all out in a rush regardless. "Van-sama! He destroyed the fortress! I knew he could do it! I saw him fly overhead after the fortress went down and he looked so determined and strong. That's what they get for burning Fanelia. And for the stuff they did to you people. I should go meet him at the dockyard to let him know how proud I am!"

"I think he knows, Merle," Millerna says. "But why is he headed for the dockyard?"

"He was following the Crusade." 

"Why is the Crusade headed for the dockyard? Aren't they searching for Hitomi?"

"I was getting to that part," Merle insists. "That Caeli that was asking me all those questions before told me tell you right away. He rode that poor horse as fast as it would go all the way up from the harbor too."

"Merle…" I demand.

"Anyway," she says brightly. "They found Hitomi!"

***

Wedding nights are the stuff of lewd rumors and even lewder jokes. The wedding nights of royals are not an exception -- people just use fancier vocabulary and voices when they get to juicy bits. Thanks the gods that we have at least moved beyond the days when the couple had to present a bloodied bed sheet to prove that the marriage was consummated and that the bride had been virtuous prior to the act. I don't think anyone's ever cared about the virtue of the groom.

There won't be any of the kind of talk today. No one's in the mood for humor and there would be nothing to talk about anyway. Oh, Millerna could produce sheets with blood on them. She had a romantic night of getting up at regular intervals to clean Dryden's wounds and change the dressings. She caught desperately needed naps in a chair she pulled up by the bedside. Then there are the numerous times she checked in on how the search for Hitomi was progressing.

Her husband, with the assistance of a large dose of medicinal herbs, slept like a stone through the whole night. He wasn't aware that Hitomi was missing until Millerna woke him up with a very boisterous expression of happiness over her friend being found.

Needless to say, Millerna's exhausted this morning. Yawns pepper the dramatic-but-not-in-the-way-you-would-expect details of her first night as married woman. Yet, 'Dryden snores. A lot.' is her only complaint.

She hopes that the herbs are partly to blame and that once he's healed, he won't sleep on his back. So she can get a better night's sleep tonight, she decides to use Marlene's old bedroom. Just for a night or two, she says.

***

Dryden's first official act as regent is to take over Father's place on the council. He jokes that he thinks he'll enjoy his injury more. I tell him some things are too true to be funny.

I do want to attend the session they're holding today. Dryden, especially in his condition, deserves more support than the self-interested eye of his father on him. I remember the pangs of intimidation I felt during my first council meeting and Dryden's in for worse than I was. I didn't have to lead that meeting. The main item of discussion that day was the annexation of a derelict farm to the city. The rest of the time was filled with a great deal of blather about how Lord Geyton's parties weren't as good as they used to be since his wife hired a new head maid. Dryden is going to talk about war.

Right now, it's just the possibility of war. No one wants one but there's momentum building for the idea that it might be necessary. We need to have some kind of reaction to Zaibach's actions. I know Dryden's against a violent response. Millerna and I were the test audience for his opening speech. Millerna gave him the support expected of a wife. I suggested rewording a few of his sentences to get the council's attention better but I didn't comment on the content. It would be nice to believe we could settle this with trade embargoes and reparations, but that solution seems too pat, too fairytale, to be feasible. Fanel took out one fortress. We have no idea how many more Zaibach has. Not letting them buy our grain doesn't sound like much of a defense against this unknown army.

Amongst those who would do the fighting, war is the prevailing solution. Allen's not the only Caeli arguing for it. Fanel's opinion on the matter is clear in the way he stalks around the palace. Neither Merle nor Hitomi has been able to soften his mood.

I wish I knew what Father would do. He let Zaibach attack Freid, but only because he thought it would protect us. He claimed he never would have done it if Marlene were still alive. Does that automatically mean he'd go to war now? Many of his people have died already. Both Millerna and I were in danger at the wedding. How far would he be willing to go?

He's not likely to give us an answer anytime soon. He hasn't said anything since his words on the balcony. Mostly, he's been sleeping more and more. The doctors say that he's recuperating. That doesn't mean much to me when it causes Millerna to visit him more often.

She says she's making up for when she was away. I've caught her studying him though, deliberately arranging his pillows and sneaking glances at the medicine he's given. For once, I want her to share everything she knows about medicine.

Since I can't be in the meeting, I might as well join her while she sits with Father. She's not consulting texts or counting pills when I arrive. She's sitting by herself, hunched forward and looking more worried than usual.

"Has something happened to him?" I ask her.

"No," she says. "Father is… He's the same as ever. I mean, he's the same as he's been since the wedding."

"He was doing well that day. If he recovered once, he can do it again."

"That's certainly possible. There are records of patients in much worse condition than him making full recoveries." Millerna doesn't tell me about any of these miracle patients. I have a feeling that their stories are few and far between.

"That's good to hear," I say anyway.

Father's breathing is more ragged than I remember it being. His face hangs looser than what a restful sleep would suggest.

"Do you ever think what would happen if he doesn't recover?" Millerna asks suddenly. "What would happen if he died?"

"I…" I have thought about it, but only in an abstract sense. I thought about silly things like what changes I would make to this room if it were mine or how I might run the council meetings if I had the chance -- all plans for which Father didn't truly have to be gone but simply not there at the time. "Not seriously. I haven't wanted to consider it."

" I know, but I feel like… maybe we should. Dryden's already taken his job on the council. When he was reading his speech to us, I couldn't help but think if that was what Father would say. That Dryden wasn't doing it right. That we wouldn't be able to do it right."

"I thought your response was a bit reserved --"

"That's just it, Eries. It wasn't. I told Dryden it was a good speech but inside, I wanted to yell at him for trying to take Father's place. I know that's the last thing Dryden wants to do. He's acting as regent because he has to. But how long do we have before he's acting as king?"

"I don't know. But it hasn't happened yet."

"That's what I keep telling myself," she says. "Last night, when I heard Hitomi had been kidnapped, the first thought that came to me was 'She's gone. I'm never going to see her again. Just like everyone else.' I couldn't help it."

"I think that's understandable after everything that happened yesterday. She's safe now."

"She's safe *for now*. Zaibach's not going to forget about her and the council has to decide what to do with her."

"They wouldn't turn her over," I say. 

Millerna disagrees. "I overhead Dryden and his father talking. Some of the council members think the only reason Zaibach attacked was because of Hitomi. They think if we give her to Zaibach, they won't bother us anymore."

I can think of a few names that would attach themselves to such a plan. Lord Millay doesn't like anything that disrupts the natural flow of the country's business. War is about as a disruptive event as there can be. Meiden probably told Dryden in an attempt to convince him it was the best choice. I'm not sure about Lords Poniard and Fossler. They tend to follow the mood of their fellow councilmen rather than taking stances of their own. If they hear the right speaker…

I don't know why I still do this. That speaker can't be me. My influence on the council has evaporated to the point where my contacts aren't even keeping me informed. I need my little sister to listen in on her husband to find out what's going on.

"And what did Dryden say about it?"

"He didn't contradict his father. He said he'd take it under consideration. But then," Millerna says, "he said he was going to invite Van and Allen to speak at the meeting since they have more experience with Zaibach than anyone."

That was canny of Dryden. Fanel and Allen wouldn't give up Hitomi without a very bloody fight and he knows it. He can let those two argue the extreme of defying Zaibach against those who are in favor of appeasement. Then, Dryden can fall somewhere in the middle and be seen as the practical politician who weighs all the options fairly. "Perhaps all that boasting he did before the wedding has merit. He already knows how to get what he wants without it appearing that he's taking an unpopular position."

"I don't know if I like him using friends to do it, but I do know Van and Allen will do everything they can to protect Hitomi." She adds quietly, "She means so much to the both of them."

"I've noticed. Does that…?"

"Does that bother me? I don't want it to. Hitomi's been a good friend. I can't control who else she's friends with or how close they get to her. What about you, Eries?"

"Me?" I hadn't expected her to ask that. She speculated a little when I told her Allen and I used to be friends but she hasn't brought it up since. "I don't think it's for me to judge."

"Maybe not, but that just stops you from sharing your judgment. It doesn't stop you from feeling one way or the other."

"So what you're saying is that your marriage to Dryden hasn't changed anything."

Millerna exhales in frustration. "What I'm saying is that I'd like a real answer from you! Yes or no, Eries? Does it bother you that Allen and Hitomi are as close as they are?"

I could sidestep the question easily. I could accuse Millerna of avoiding my question, of confusing her situation with mine. I could dismiss it entirely. _Why would I be bothered? A person can have as many close friends as they want. Even if there were more to his relationship with Hitomi, why would I care? I told you we were just friends._ There are so many ways to tell Millerna 'no', but if she was brave enough to ask, I should be brave enough to answer.

Yet, the answer is still 'no'. 

It all goes back to that smile. So many times, I saw Allen as the man he could be, the one I wanted him to be. At that moment, that was who he actually was. I'm not going to be jealous of the girl who helped him get there. I tried to do the same. I tried so much I didn't realize I was the only one making the effort. I don't think that's the case anymore. It might be the difference in Hitomi's personality to mine. It might be her 'psychic gifts'. It might be because she was the one who happened to be there when Allen finally let loose that iron grip on his past. I don't know the circumstances. I do know the result.

"It might have once, Millerna, but no, it doesn't bother me. I'm happy for him."

"I just thought…"

"I know. Up until this minute, I thought it too."

***

"VAAAAAAAAAN-SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMAAA!!"

Not again. At least Merle's waited until morning to go searching for her lord. Unfortunately, she's not finding him with nearly the speed she did on the night of Hitomi's disappearance.

"VAAAAAAAAAN-SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMAAA!!"

Dryden gets to her before I can. Lucky catgirl, he's a pacifist. Merle holds no such ideology. Shoving and name-calling are her methods. Dryden hasn't screamed out in pain yet, so it would seem she is keeping her claws sheathed.

"What do you want Van for? Maybe I can help you out instead."

"I don't want Van-sama for anything, I just want Van-sama! I can't find him anywhere!"

It's early, so I'll forgive Dryden the mistake of suggesting incredibly obvious places where Merle could search and likely did search several times over already.

Merle? She's not as lenient. "Do you think I'm stupid? I've been looking for him for a half-hour! I've asked people if they've seen him! THERE. IS. NO. SIGN. OF. HIM! Idiot…"

I grin from the safety of my room. I don't think Dryden or especially Merle would find any humor in this. I shouldn't either. The king of Fanelia vanishing, if that is indeed what happened, from the palace is a serious matter. It should be taken seriously, even if one of the people discussing it is a huffy catgirl who freely insults the intelligence of the future king of Asturia.

Fortunately, someone comes along who will give the matter its due diligence. Merle shrieks Allen's name and demands that he help her find Fanel now.

"Calm down, Merle. We'll find Van soon enough."

"You knew he was missing?!"

"And you were being so secretive about it, Merle," Dryden mutters.

"Yes… She did bring some attention to it," Allen says diplomatically. "Did he say anything about going to the barn where he keeps Escaflowne?"

"The barn! That's it! He's there! He has to be! Come on, come on! We have to go!"

"Merle, we should wait for -- Oww!" I guess I was wrong about the claws being sheathed. Allen's a quick healer and a fast learner. "All right, we'll go now."

"Aren't you coming to help, Dryden?" Merle yells.

"I thought I was an idiot?" he counters. He's soon relenting though. "I'll come with you. I can get us the king's fastest horses or something."

I allow them plenty of time to vacate the hallway before I come out myself. I don't wish to be recruited for the search party too. Millerna must be of the same mind. The door to Marlene's old bedroom is cracked open to allow someone to hear without being seen.

"They're gone," I say through the opening.

"What was that all about? I didn't think it was possible for Van to go somewhere without Merle knowing about it."

"Maybe he realized people need their sleep and decided not to wake her before he left."

"That's terrible," she laughs. More subdued, she asks, "You don't suppose it is anything to be worried about though, do you? I know how quickly we panicked when Hitomi was missing but this is Van. He doesn't go anywhere without his sword. If someone attacked him, we would know about, right?"

"Undoubtedly. I think Allen was right about the barn and the guymelef."

"Maybe I should ask Hitomi. He might have told her or she would be able to find other ways if she had to."

She's worried. In the space of two days, she's gotten married, had her wedding ceremony interrupted by an enemy attack, saw her husband get hurt trying to protect her and her friend was kidnapped. Fanel vanishing under suspicious circumstances is almost a logical progression of events. "We'll both ask her."

There's a problem with that. No one answers when we knock on Hitomi's door. No one is in the room when we enter. The only trace of Hitomi is that bag she always carried around sitting in the middle of the bed. My theory that she got up to run around the palace grounds like she does in the evenings is disputed by Millerna finding the shirt and short pants Hitomi always wears.

I try another theory. "She could be with Fanel."

"She could be. I need to know for sure."

"Wait, Millerna," I call after her as she rushes out of the room. "She could have gone to the kitchens for breakfast for all we know. You can't go rushing out into the countryside by yourself."

She gets her escort without any effort at all. Ever so conveniently, Allen's second-in-command, Gaddes, appears, looking for his commander.

Millerna brightens when he asks if we know where Allen is. "I know exactly where he is, Gaddes. Get a carriage and I'll take you to him."

He takes one look at her and knows he is going to do exactly as she says. He asks where the carriages are kept and goes to fetch on.

I try to stop her. "Millerna, wait," I repeat. She's already half-way to the courtyard and too focused on her mission to bother to listen to my voice of reason. This whole situation seems odd to me. Odd in that it doesn't feel as familiar as it should. Hitomi and Fanel aren't missing so much as their whereabouts are unknown. Millerna must be taking her cue from Merle's distress because there's no indication that anything treacherous has happened. There's no left behind shoe.

As ridiculous as that sounds, it's completely rational compared to the sight of the Moleman ambling up to the carriage Gaddes brings to the front of the palace. Millerna hops in; the Moleman hops under. Gaddes takes off without a clue.

This had better amount to nothing. I don't want to go through another tense search. I don't want Millerna to have to face the loss of two friends. 

And I really don't want to have to explain the part about the Moleman to anyone.

***

Author's Notes: I know Eries seems pretty flippant about Van and Hitomi's disappearance but it was only because I was trying to match the tone the series had about it. I love that scene with Merle popping in and around the screen SD style and bitching about Hitomi. It's one of the few times (maybe the only time) that Allen's reaction to bad news is played for laughs.

There's been a big fan art update on my Eries shrine since I last posted. Lots and lots of art by Sakura has been added and I've got a work by a new contributor, Mary-chan. it's at www(DOT)geocities.com/eriesariaaston.fanart.

Next up: The chapter you were expecting this time -- 'My Best Friends Engagement'. And the return of the original character most of you want to stay very far away from Alucier. ^_^


	10. My Best Friend's Engagement

"Always…"

IX: My Best Friend's Engagement 

__

For the searche, King Dacian called upon the greatest of Men. The two missing children were deare to him, as unto a son and daughter of his owne seed. By King Dacian's side stoode Men of steel, of cunning, of loyalty, of resolve and --

"Unbridled enthusiasm?"

"That's not how the passage reads, Alucier," I sigh, snapping the book shut. Father's drifted back to sleep since the last chapter so there's no real need to continue. Old books glorifying the reigns of previous Asturian kings were never high on my reading list, though I can understand their appeal to Father. I'll never understand why the old languages insisted on tacking the letter 'e' onto the end of every other word.

"Keene fashione sense?" he guesses again.

Disapproval in these circumstances only encourages him. "You've read this book before, haven't you?"

"It's so obvious. Every group has to have a Stylish One."

"Do I want to know how you classify our circle of friends?"

"Please, as if I sit home alone coming up with cliches to call my friends. Now if you wanted to do it together, that would be different."

"Is that how Revius came up with Her Pinkness for my sister? A collaborative effort between the two of you?"

"Speaking of her majesty, the Princess Millerna," he says nimbly, "It's been what? Ten minutes since I've checked to see if she's returned yet?"

It's been a lot longer than that. King Dacian had only met those two soon-to-be-kidnapped children the last time Alucier left the room. I could have walked from the barn where Fanel keeps Escaflowne in the time it took for the tragic orphans to endear themselves to the stern monarch so deeply and publicly, Dacian's archenemy saw fit to launch an elaborate plan to steal the children away. I didn't read far enough to find out if the kidnapping was but one stage of a more nefarious scheme or if the man was simply being spiteful. Those types of revelations take place in the later chapters and I won't be getting to them for another day or two. Meanwhile, I need to find out if there's a nefarious scheme afoot in the present day.

Alucier and I slip out of Father's room, taking care not to disturb him. That stillness is contrasted greatly by the clamor in the guard tower. Most of it is high-pitched demands from Merle that somebody does something. The rest of it is Revius insisting there's nothing he can do with just a hint of Dryden trying to diffuse the tension by making a joke of why a young man and woman might want to be alone for awhile. 

Merle, Dryden, Allen, Millerna and Gaddes have returned to the palace without either object of their search. The Moleman either wandered off from the company or was forcibly evicted. It was determined that Fanel and Hitomi had taken Escaflowne but the when, the where and the why of the situation are still unknown. Aside from Dryden's jesting theory, which Merle loudly dismisses on the grounds that no proud king of Fanelia would succumb to the corruption of a wanton Mystic Moon inhabitant (albeit in less polite terms), no one has any ideas. 

There is a common fear. Allen says it first, bringing up Zaibach's recent activities and the possibility that the floating fortress Fanel destroyed wasn't the only one in the region. Assuming Fanel and Hitomi are still in the region. Allen goes one step further and reminds everyone that Escaflowne is capable of covering a startling amount of ground at high speeds, as it did when the three of them escaped from Zaibach.

"Ever the optimist, eh, Allen?" Dryden notes.

Merle is more hopeful -- adamantly so. "He'll come back! Van-sama wouldn't abandon me!"

"She has a point," Millerna says. "If Van were leaving for good, why wouldn't he have taken Merle with him?"

"Yeah, having a fuzzy, eighty-pound armband and being licked all the time never gets old," Revius mumbles. "The armband part anyway…"

"What's that supposed to…"

"SO…" Dryden interrupts Merle to prevent any exploration of the connotations of Revius' remark. "We all agree. They'll be back."

Assuming they're able to. I check my tongue lest I give Dryden reason to call me as pessimistic as Allen. Everyone else seems content to share Merle's belief that they've taken a short trip and will come back without a scratch. While the others joke that Fanel and Hitomi will probably wonder what we were so worried about, Allen continues to go on worrying. He takes look after look through the large window in the tower's east face, as if willing the two to appear in midair. Waits last so much longer when you let anticipation take you over. Longer still when you don't know when or if the exact moment you're waiting for is going to happen.

"If it's settled that they will be coming back, we hardly need to spend any more time discussing it. The guards have their duties and we've occupied their tower long enough," I say. No one is all that nonplussed by the abruptness. I didn't get the nickname 'Ice Princess' without making similar dispassionate statements before.

Revius backs me up by chastening the guards that are here for slacking off to watch us talk. Millerna suddenly remembers that they all missed lunch to go searching and hunger pangs descend upon the group as they decide in unison to visit the kitchens. 

"I suppose you're right," Allen says and leaves with the rest.

Walking down the stairs, he almost misses a step from keeping his eyes on the sky.

***

At dusk, the king of Fanelia and the seer from the Mystic Moon do return to Palas. They are taken directly to Dryden's office where we interested parties have hurriedly assembled. Their homecoming is not celebrated as would be expected. Had they returned alone, they would have been told how much they were missed and how glad everyone was to see them. They've brought with them, however, a third person whose presence stifles warm sentiment. The only thing that should be offered to him is enmity.

Merle, quizzically, addresses him first. "Folken? Is that really you?"

How she knows him is beyond me, but she must not know everything about him if she sounds so hopeful. "His title is Strategos Folken," I tell her. "Of Zaibach."

He doesn't dispute it. He says nothing.

Dryden wasn't here for Strategos Folken's first visit but he has been briefed on how the man humbled the crown. The new regent knows to play this one cautiously. He also knows who is most likely to give him the full explanation this situation demands. "Hitomi, care to tell us what's going on?"

"Van…?" she asks, but there's no help impending from the king. Bringing the Strategos back with them obviously was not his idea nor has he warmed to it much. 

"He's not with Zaibach anymore," Hitomi continues. "He's decided to defect. He knows how wrong Zaibach is and wants to stop them."

"Folken was really with Zaibach? Oh, Van-sama…" Merle whimpers.

Dryden voices my thoughts for me. "I'm missing something. How would Merle know a Zaibach Strategos?"

The answer has to be awkward as no one hurries to provide it. Finally, Allen says, "He's Van's brother."

"His brother?" Millerna says in shock. I'm surprised too. The Folken responsible for the attack on Fanelia is the same Folken Laquer de Fanel that could have been the country's ruler. I had thought the name was a twisted coincidence. It never occurred to me that the reality would be more perverse.

Staving off more startled outbursts, Hitomi restarts her story. She recounts the summons the beastmen relayed to Fanel to go to Fanelia. She cuts a part about dragons attacking short when she notices a look of alarm on Allen. "Folken knew how to get the dragons to leave. He saved us. Then he said he wanted to come with us to Asturia so that he could help us fight Zaibach."

She trusts him completely. But Hitomi will not be making any decisions about the former Strategos' fate. That decision will rest with the council and Dryden. "Is that so?" he says. "You're going to switch sides and give up the goods on your former team?"

"I formally request asylum in Asturia," Folken answers, "In exchange for information that will be of use to your military."

"Asylum, right. Because otherwise, we'd just throw you in prison and conveniently forget where we put the key."

"Dryden!" Hitomi chides, "He's being sincere!"

"You know my terms," are Folken's last words on the subject.

Dryden mulls those terms over but I have a feeling which way he's leaning. The line about throwing the Strategos in prison isn't really accurate. At most, Folken would stay in a cell during a brief trial with a foregone verdict and be executed before the court documents could be filed. Granting asylum would give us access to a wealth of information and save a man's life. Dryden's too much of a merchant to pass on the former and too much of an idealist to pass on the latter.

As expected, Dryden announces, "I don't yet have the power to grant you anything without running it by the council first. Now is a good a time as any. Get them after they've had a nice, big dinner and are in a good mood."

I gather the younger Fanel won't bother attending that meeting. He stalks away with Merle a few footsteps behind him. Dryden calls for a guard to escort him and the older Fanel to the council chambers. He sends another to rouse the council. Hitomi leaves with them, though which brother she's following is unclear. 

"I still can't believe his own brother would do that to Van, to everyone in Fanelia," Millerna says once Allen and the two of us are the only ones left in the room.

"I don't know why he didn't tell us before. The fact that Zaibach was ruthless enough to have a man order the destruction of his former homeland, that nothing is sacred to them, could have been used to persuade the council to act more decisively."

I didn't mean it as a rebuke against anyone but the knight who had the duty to report the knowledge as soon as he learned it apologizes for the lapse. "Forgive me, but when Van told me, I had the understanding that he was taking me into his confidence. Van will help us however he can with Zaibach, but anything specifically involving his brother, I think he regards it as private business that is his responsibility to deal with alone."

Allen would respect that. My sister and I are too well versed in family affairs being dredged through the public eye to disagree with him.

Millerna does wonder how far Fanel might take his perceived responsibility. "It didn't look to me like Van was the least bit receptive to the idea of asylum. Do you think he'll be able to live with the decision if we do go ahead and grant it to his brother?"

"He did bring him back here," I say. "Fanel's been in Asturia long enough to learn we can't resist a good bargain and the Strategos is making an intriguing offer. He had to know the high probability of us agreeing to it."

"But what Folken did… With asylum, he won't receive any real punishment for it. Van's so angry now. What happens after he's seen his brother walking around free for awhile."

"True. Fanel does have a hard time not expressing his hatred. After some fuel is added to that fire -- "

"Van can't hate him that completely. If he was that full of hatred, no one would want…" Allen stops his soliloquy when he realizes Millerna and I are both staring at him. "I'm sorry, I was just thinking of something someone once said to me."

It didn't sound like Allen. I've no doubt Hitomi Kanzaki was the original speaker. Her influence spreads. 

Millerna embraces it, mostly. "I understand what you're saying and I agree, but still… It's going to be hard for Van to forgive him and I don't even know if he has a reason to do it beyond being his brother."

"Sometimes, that's reason enough."

It wasn't that long ago that Allen would have scoffed at that notion instead of putting it forth. That's the nature of mercy, I suppose. Give it once and it becomes more natural to give it again. I just don't how much should be given in this case. Providing us with intelligence won't give back any of the lives taken on the Strategos' order. It might, however, save considerably more. That alone makes it worthwhile. And, if Hitomi is correct and the motivation for Folken's defection lies in some newfound revulsion with Zaibach's methods, the conscience that prodded him to that decision won't let him rest. That punishment could be worse than anything our courts would mete out.

"Maybe," Millerna says. "But it takes time to forgive. And sometimes, it hurts more because it is family."

Hurt and forgiveness aren't always in proportion when it comes to loved ones. Crimes that are reprehensible for a stranger can be pardoned. A small disloyalty that could easily be forgotten builds instead into a raw wound that's ready to reopen at the slightest offense.

But what Folken Fanel did was reprehensible and it wasn't a small disloyalty. Fanel's wound goes deep. I've had differences with my sisters, but they were nothing like the thorough betrayal handed down from his brother. No one would judge Van Fanel if he loathed Folken for the rest of his life.

__

If he was that full of hatred… what a miserable life that would be. Even Merle would tire of him eventually. Another insight from a girl of fifteen that some adults never learn. Having heard Allen, of all people, repeat it, is the best proof that you should just let yourself heal. 

***

The offer was too good to be refused. The Strategos is given the asylum he sought and, immediately, is called upon to live up to his obligations as set forth in the terms. He complies with the requests, keeping little -- if any -- of Zaibach's secrets. A flying guymelef used in the attack at the wedding is given to our scientists. He assists in the recovery of that floating fortress, the Vionne, from the ocean. Every last piece of Zaibach's technology that he has access to, he hands over so it may be picked apart and used against its makers. The military has questions to ask as well. They want regiment sizes and locations, guymelef and floating fortress weaknesses. They get them.

Even in total abeyance of our wishes though, Folken retains that aura of cold professionalism that lent him the menace necessary to intimidate a king. He never utters an unneeded word, never waivers from an even tone of indifference. The few hours of the day when he isn't being interrogated, he spends sequestered in the room we've given him in the palace cellars. The staff gossips about it being turned into a strange laboratory with our guest playing the mad doctor role to perfection. None of them would dare speak a word of it near Folken. If they did, I doubt it would matter. Nothing provokes a visible reaction from the man.

No, there is one person that earns sidelong glances, though that person makes an effort not to react. Blood is thick, but Van Fanel's grudge runs thicker. He has as little to do with his brother as possible.

As little as possible is, unfortunately, a lot with the summit that we've scheduled. In coming to realize we can't ignore Zaibach any longer, we've also realized we can't fight them alone. We need allies, especially allies with large militaries. To that end, we've invited dignitaries from the strongest nations on Gaea to Palas to convince them not to make the same mistakes we did with Freid. The delegates from Basram arrived this morning. Egzardia's are arriving now. 

I had the choice of either greeting the dignitaries at the dockyard with Alucier or assisting with preparations for the lead address of the summit with the men who will be presenting it. Since the main topic of that address is Fanelia, those men will be Van and Folken Fanel. I did not take long to consider. I'm acquainted with all of Egzardia's royal family and their politics. Dealing with them will be far easier than negotiating the tension between the Fanelian brothers.

At least, I thought I knew all of Egzardia's royal family. The woman that steps out of the royal leviship looks familiar. I recognize the high cheekbones and long, mahogany hair. The sensible braid it's wrapped in isn't entirely implausible, but the crisp, formal, all-concealing military uniform is just… wrong. For the woman I'm thinking of, anyway.

I'm not alone in my confusion. "Is that…?" Alucier stammers.

The Egzardians advance towards us. The young man in the plainest uniform walks ahead of them and, with an announcement, confirms that yes, that is. "May I present to you, the eldest princess of Egzardia, her majesty, Marqesita Verlan--"

"She knows my name. Someone like you screams it at her every time I come to Asturia," the eldest princess of Egzardia, her majesty, Marqesita Verlana e' Egzard sniffs. "And," she adds as she points to the page in front of me, "She's Eries Aria Aston and her guard's name is Alucier Maerzen. So you don't have to bother either. Why don't the two of you take some time off from relaying information everyone already knows and go to a bar somewhere. You can complain about your jobs and how terribly rude I am."

"Yeah, okay. Now I believe it's her," Alucier whispers.

"I welcome you to Asturia," I say. "Though I wish the reasons for your journey were more felicitous." Someone should maintain some proper etiquette, I figure.

Marqesita plays along, with an emphasis on 'play'. "Yes, it is the onus of all great nations to be ever vigilant against the threat of war. Even when one great nation thinks the other great nation is being overly dramatic but doesn't want to say that outright so they send a token royal to that other great nation so it still looks like they actually care."

"You're just being overly dramatic, right? Egzardia is taking Zaibach seriously?" Alucier asks. I hope he's right.

"Egzardia…" Marqesita sighs, "Egzardia has problems of her own at the moment."

She doesn't elaborate and the uncomfortable looks exchanged between the men behind her make it clear that I shouldn't ask her to. I haven't heard any rumors about her country, but affairs at the palace have been so focused on Asturia only that I might have missed them. I'll have to listen more carefully. Marqesita's words and appearance suggest something significant.

"But you are here," Alucier says, "and you obviously aren't being so dismissive."

She cocks an eyebrow. "Obviously? Whatever makes you say that?"

"Uh, well, it's just that you're…"

I do believe the words Alucier's looking for are 'wearing more clothes than jewelry for once' but I'm curious to hear his translation into more polite language.

"You're wearing a military uniform."

"Really? My! I hadn't noticed. If only that page had yelled that information at me!"

If only the group of Egzardian officials weren't close by, Marqesita would be in a more competitive contest of bon mots. She's their princess; she can say whatever she likes in front of them. A well-behaved Knight Caeli does not have that advantage.

He is not completely defenseless though. "It is such a change from your normal attire. Of all your… talents… I did not know being a military commander was among them."

"Oh, I suspect that's true for you Asturians. You don't allow your women to serve in your defense, but we Egzardians are proud to let all of our citizens fight. Well, figuratively anyway. Egzardian women may serve as officers and such but we can't pick up a sword and actually go into battle. Frankly, I don't see any reason to complain about that part. What do you think, Eries?"

I do not want to get in the middle of this.

"I think she is pleased to see her friend so committed to a cause. The time it must have taken to remove all of your bracelets alone…"

"Tell me, Alucier. Do you often contemplate how long it takes for me to undress?"

I really do not want to get in the middle of this. Marqesita sent her page away before he could introduce the commanders that accompanied her. I should learn their names. They look like they want me to learn their names.

The older man with the white beard is General Dasloven. He's served in the military since the age of fifteen. He probably has hours of anecdotes and advice to share. I ask him to get started because just about anything is better than listening to Marqesita purr, "I bet I can get out of this drab thing long before you even get that cravat undone. I'll give you odds."

***

This first meeting of the summit is going well. Since I have yet to be reinstated to the council, I technically shouldn't be here to judge. Sneaking in wasn't difficult; Marqesita and I acted as if we were engrossed in conversation while she was being seated and I 'accidentally' forgot to leave when the meeting started. I wish I could be seated closer to our council to better gauge their reactions, but if the only way I could attend was to sit in the back with the Egzardians, I'll sit in the back with the Egzardians. I wasn't going to idle away my time in my room while a meeting that literally will effect the future of Gaea takes place.

The two Fanels are the main reason things are going well. Before they took the floor, most leaders were grumbling and whispering among themselves on much the same lines as what Marqesita said about her country. After they were through, everyone sat in a moment of pensive silence and then they started speaking all at once on what to do about Zaibach.

The brothers stand apart now. Folken remains at the central podium, fielding what questions he can pick out of the din. Van has retreated to the door. He leans against it with his arms crossed over his chest, looking up only to take occasional glances at the door on the opposite side of the room. The doors were kept open to let air circulate into the room. Tempers will be raised as it is without the extra summer heat. Periodically, a pink head will peer around the second door and a tail will swish into view.

The guards don't seem to care much about Merle's presence. Fanel would have had trouble getting a thirteen-year-old catgirl into the meeting itself but would have been able to leave orders that she wasn't to be touched as long as she stayed outside and didn't interfere. So far, the most she's done is to smile and wave excitedly when one of the delegates used a direct quote from Van's address to illustrate his point. I thought I saw the young king lift his hand lightly in acknowledgement.

I'm sure Merle's morale support helped him get through his speech, but ironically enough, I thought it was his brother who made that speech more effective. It worked the other way too. The brothers complimented each other, reinforced each other's strengths and took away the weaknesses. Van Fanel is no trained orator. He spoke plainly, with brief flickers of anger, as he laid out the bare truth and spared no description of the carnage he had seen. When Folken followed with his clinical delivery of the facts, he built methodically on everything Van said. It turned a speech that could have been dismissed as the ranting of a bitter, young man into a candid statement of the dire consequences that await us should we fail to take action. Yet if Folken had spoken alone, there would have been no passion with which to animate the audience. Van Fanel may not want his brother, but they needed each other.

The meeting goes on long past the scheduled recess. I lose track of Merle and Van Fanel as I write up questions for Marqesita to ask on my behalf. She fits them in between questions of her own. I'm surprised at how seriously she's taking this. I never doubted her intelligence, but I sometimes did question how she applied it. A few hours ago, she was making lascivious comments to Alucier. She's now drawing parallels between the current situation and several previous wars fought on Gaea, including an obscure war that occurred centuries ago and resulted in the decimation of the Gerwalt kingdom and culture.

She finishes to strong applause. The members of the council are among those clapping the loudest -- impressive because she's the only other female in the room besides me and because that last example was diving deeper into the history books than most of them have read. I feel a tiny twinge of envy. I can't recall them ever supporting me that vocally when I sat in with them.

Marqesita turns the floor back over to Folken with one of my questions. I'm not envious, but amused when Lord Millay proclaims he was concerned about that precise issue.

"Looks like we've got a very strong consensus going," Marqesita says.

"In this room, yes. But what about the rest of Egzardia? You said they sent you here as a token royal."

"My brothers either thought this would bore me or were too stupid to understand how important this summit really is. In any case, they underestimated my desire and ability to pledge Egzardia's support. Won't they be surprised when I send a messenger back with a proclamation that we're at war?"

"Do you have the authority to do that on your own?" I doubt her brothers would give her the right to do whatever she wanted with Egzardia's military. Curious that she didn't mention her father.

"Actually…. No. But I've got more influence than they realize. And he," she motions towards General Dasloven, "is definitely on our side. He was trying to persuade me to help you all on the trip here. The soldiers would rather listen to him anyway. We royals just send the men off to fight. He's the one trying to keep them alive."

And that is the inescapable truth of war. Gathering our allies together, making them aware of the threat and getting them to agree to work with us are the easiest parts. Our soldiers will be the ones bearing the real burden. They'll go out to the battlefield and the noble notion of good versus evil will devolve into a gory mess of men slaughtering each other as efficiently as they can in the hopes that their families won't suffer the same fate as the people of the Gerwalt kingdom.

Asturia's won a battle today, but there's so much more to come before we can claim any kind of victory.

***

The last conference of the summit was held today. The nations of Gaea have decreed an alliance against Zaibach. Some expressed reluctance but no one held out. Dryden, with a sad shake of his head, signed the official treaty for Asturia. The word 'war' doesn't specifically appear in any of the paragraphs and subsections but it lurks behind every nice word about unity and peace. No one is kidding themselves. Euphemisms and political speech conceal the problem; they don't cure it.

The inevitability of war is already drawing our allies' armies towards the far corner of Asturia that borders Zaibach. Everyone knew where the summit was headed after the first day. Better to get this over and done with before Zaibach can pick off any more individual countries, as with Freid and Fanelia. The armies should be ready in full in a week or two. Tomorrow, the early arrivals will see how well we all can get along when the planning for the first strike begins.

Tonight, we are supposed to be celebrating the treaty. Instead, we go through the motions. Asturia is a poor host as Dryden stays holed up in his office. Millerna tries to compensate for his absence but her age and attire make it hard for her to deliver convincing strong talk to a group of men gearing up for war. Still, she's doing a better job than Dryden would have done if he had shown. He hasn't been quiet about his anti-war opinions. It's a difficult stance made worse by no one listening to him. Economic sanctions and diplomacy don't play so well against the horror stories of ravaged nations.

The celebration was meant to be subdued. Outside of a cluster of generals emulating battle formations by lining up silverware, it's turning out to be dull. Take away the dancing and the alcohol from these affairs and you aren't left with much else to do. Guests slip out by the minute. Millerna uses two departing Cessarians to cover her escape less than an hour into the evening. 

I'm one of the few people to notice. Less than that care. Marqesita yawns and says, "Your sister has the right idea."

"Should we follow her lead or at least try to make some sort of formal exit?"

"And what? Wake everybody up?"

Marqesita does make the effort of relieving her guards for the night and borrowing a Caeli guard to match mine. In theory, Revius is her pick but he walks beside me while my guard walks ahead with Marqesita. Her side of the conversation is, for a change, entendre free. That doesn't alleviate Revius' need to bounce speculation off of me about what exactly is going on between the two of them. His roommate has been an awfully sparse source for that kind of gossip over the years and he must feel the need to make up for lost time.

We eventually meander back towards the guest quarters. Revius is trying to tell me a story Damise told him about Alucier and some girl from back when he still lived in Dunhaven but people watching is a convenient distraction. I don't think I need to hear a story Revius finds interesting and apropos to Marqesita's flirtations. 

Parts of it force themselves on me because there aren't all that many people to watch. The heightened security for the summit has caused a lot of people to limit their nighttime activities and stay indoors. A few delegates are straggling back from the main hall but not enough to keep me from hearing about an angry herder and his daughter. Hitomi Kanzaki's appearance keeps me oblivious to the rest. She's out on a balcony, enjoying the view of the moons. Or maybe she's thinking of her home.

Marqesita spots her too and remarks, "I can't believe that girl is really from the Mystic Moon. She's nothing like the fairytales. According to the most popular Egzardian myth, she should have longer legs and a bigger chest --"

"I love Egzardian mythology," says Revius.

"--and long, coarse hairs all over her body," Marqesita concludes.

"I hate Egzardian mythology," says Revius.

"From the few talks I've had with her, she's a very polite, very earnest girl," I tell Marqesita. "She has some 'peculiar' hobbies. She claims she can read a person's future by looking at this odd deck of picture cards she brought with her from the Mystic Moon."

"Ooo, exotic," Marqesita gushes, "Any truth to it?"

I've yet to decide myself but I repeat the testimony Van Fanel and Allen have given me.

"That could either be very creepy or a lot of fun," Marqesita says. "Regardless, it would be interesting to try. I wouldn't mind having a cute skirt like she's wearing too."

"You like it? I'm astounded," Alucier says. "The jacket is probably too much for you."

"That reminds me, I never did get a chance to settle that bet with you. This is the last night I'll need to wear this bulky uniform so why don't we send it off in style? My room's right where Mystic Moon Girl's standing. We could say hello before turning in."

"We?"

"Really, Alucier, I would get the girl to spell out your future for you but I'm afraid she's too young to be exposed to such scandalous material. I wouldn't want to corrupt the poor dear."

"Maybe you wouldn't…" Revius coughs.

Three necks crane in unison to see what he's talking about. Hitomi isn't alone on the balcony anymore. Allen is beside her. He leads her inside and they stand directly in front of Marqesita's door.

"You didn't tell me your knight had adopted a little friend, Eries."

"He's not 'my' knight, Marqesita. And from what I understand, he and Miss Kanzaki are very good friends."

"If you say so…" Marqesita shrugs and walks towards the stairs. 

It takes some prodding to get Alucier and Revius moving. "This isn't going to be awkward for you?"

No.

"This doesn't bother you at all?"

No.

"I could escort Marqesita on my own…"

"No! Gods, how little the two of you know me after all these years! Do you really think I'm a fragile child who can't handle seeing an old friend play with a new one?"

"No," Alucier treads carefully, "We think you're a… _willful… _woman who can, on occasion, have strong negative reactions to things she doesn't like."

"And if you listen to the latest palace gossip… Which of course, you don't," Revius backpedals.

I've already been through this with Millerna. I should have invited them in to hear that talk to save myself some time. I don't want their protection. I don't need it. 

It wouldn't be of any use anyway when we get to the second floor.

"I don't know, Allen," Hitomi's saying. Her cheeks have turned pink and she's fumbling through her words. "Fifteen… I know it's not that young in Asturia, but… Fifteen is really young at home and marriage is forever and I can't be sure if I know what my forever is…"

"You proposed to her!?" Revius shouts.

Alucier has the decency to look embarrassed with me. Marqesita just looks amused. Tact wouldn't stick to either of them with a lake of glue.

Hitomi is crimson now; Allen is a bit flushed too - though more from anger than embarrassment. "This is a private discussion. If you don't mind -"

"That's so sweet!" Marqesita plows ahead. "Did you get inspired by the moonlight or is this one of those 'I might die in battle tomorrow so I should get some today' kind of things?"

Torn between the fear that it would be misinterpreted and the intense desire to flee, I wonder how conspicuous it would be if I started slinking backwards down the stairs. I wouldn't be alone. Alucier's already inched his way over and Hitomi is about a foot closer to the stairwell from where she was originally standing. These things do tend to look better when done in groups.

Chivalry demands that Allen defends Hitomi against Marqesita's colorful remarks. With courtesy, naturally. It's appalling for a knight (at least the version of a knight Allen fancies himself to be) to defend one woman's honor by attacking another's.

"I'm sorry, my lady, but perhaps it's best if Hitomi and I continue to talk in private."

Marqesita winks at him. She *winks* at him. "Private. Of course. No better way to celebrate an engagement. By some rumors though, you've been engaged quite a lot."

Revius chokes trying not to laugh. The stairs beckon. Allen draws upon every lesson on decorum drilled into him and replies briskly, "A lady should not always listen to rumors."

"To be honest, I find learning how to listen to the right ones to be an art. No one ever said a lady should be misinformed. For instance, when you and Eries visited Egzardia, I was under the impression -"

"Marqesita!" I say brusquely. "No one wants to hear about other people's holidays. Weren't you about to retire for the night?"

"Um, you know," Hitomi quivers, "I think maybe I should get some sleep too."

"Hitomi…"

"I need some time to think, Allen. I'll have an answer for you when you get back tomorrow."

As she lopes down the hall to her room, Alucier moves to prevent certain princesses from opening their mouths again. "We all have long days tomorrow. You in particular, Marqesita, with your return trip to Egzardia scheduled so early."

"Yes, we must be mindful of early mornings. Goodnight, all. And to you, Sir Knight," she says to Allen. "Congratulations. If she says yes, that is."

"Yeah…" Revius drawls, "I think we all have early mornings scheduled. Well, Alucier has a busy day of following Eries around planned but some of us are scheduled to head to Rampant for practice maneuvers. Right, Allen? So why don't we compare assignments while Alucier wraps up this particular day of following Eries around?"

"Actually," I say. "I would like to have a word with Allen. Alone."

The three Caeli exchange alarmed looks as if I've started prancing around the hall with my skirt up over my head. I am about to expose myself, but I'll be showing more than skin. I don't know what I'm going to say. I'm not even sure of why I want to say anything. I just know I'll regret it if I don't.

Alucier and Revius depart, walking slower than I've ever seen them go. I check Marqesita's door to make sure it's completely shut. To be sure, I usher Allen out on to the balcony. 

On another moonlit night, just a few doors down, I sensed this coming while Allen denied it could ever be.

"I guess this means you've decided to forsake your vow? To never love again…"

"My vow? Yes… I suppose."

"I always thought you made it too rashly."

"It felt right at the time."

"But now, it… _you…_ feel differently."

"A lot of things have changed."

"I'm sure they have. And I'm sure Hitomi Kanzaki has played a large part in that."

"Yes. She's become very important to me."

"I would say, if you've proposed to her. If, you're in love with her…?" It's phrased more like a question than I intended, but I did phrase it. Funny that I can state succinctly his feelings for others.

"Yes, your majesty." 

An answer just as succinct, if I could say for sure what it was a reply to. I won't ask him to clarify; it all comes down to one point anyway. 

"After this war, the people will be happy to celebrate the wedding of one of their Caeli. Will one of our Caeli be as happy?"

Another 'yes, your majesty' looms briefly before Allen pulls it back into a thoughtful pause. With candor I haven't heard from him in months, he says, "I think I could be."

Not the definitive answer a bride-to-be might want to get, but the hope behind it is what I've been wanting to hear. He believes he can be happy. He *wants* to be happy.

"I wish you well, Allen Schezar."

***

Next up: To use an overused expression, just when Eries thinks she's out, they pull her back in. The third disappearance of Hitomi and the reappearance of a certain long-lost sibling bring Allen right back into Eries' life in… still untitled. I can't find a satisfactory pun on a book or movie title. :(


	11. Girl, Interrupted

"Always…"

X: Girl, Interrupted

The leviship port is crowded. Too crowded. Troops that should have shipped out to Rampant already remain here, littering the dockyard in clusters color-coded by their uniforms. Some are unclear on where their orders tell them to be. Others are without any orders at all. Packs of soldiers idle by the leviships. Impatience permeates the air.

Marqesita is generating a large storm cloud of it all by herself. She should have left hours ago. She got up early to make the predawn flight. In all this confusion though, her ship was grounded and she hasn't been given an expected time of departure. This greatly displeases her, as various commanders who've made the mistake of wandering into her vicinity can attest. I volunteered to see her off to be a good friend and hostess. So far, my role has been more of a mediator, calming her down and assuring the dock master that Marqesita didn't really mean to call him a 'neimpla', whatever that is.

I understand her frustration. I hadn't planned on being here all day either. Moreover, I'm disappointed. Moving troops the short distance from here to Rampant does take some coordination but nothing on the level that a full-scale war will take. Today's confusion is not the start anyone except Zaibach would have hoped for.

Marqesita does find some relief in the form of her hobby, Alucier. Waiting must have cramped her libido as most of her comments are pointed questions about why he's the only Caeli that seems to be missing out on combat action. She's not buying into his excuse that he needs to keep guarding me. After all, neither Father, Millerna nor Dryden have Caeli bodyguards around them all the time and nobody feels like that's a breech of security.

"I'm not the only Caeli not being sent to the front," he says. "Lord Ramkin is helping with strategy and there are four others who aren't even doing that much."

"Those wouldn't be the same ones that you've complained about numerous times as being 'Legacies', would it? Really, Alucier, lumping yourself with a bunch of elderly men who only got into the order because their last names are attached to old families and large bank accounts… That's just embarrassing."

She should hear the real reason why Alucier isn't going into combat. I don't find it *that* humiliating, but Alucier's not proud of it and Revius, with Seclas' help, exploited it into a running joke that took months to die and still crops up on occasion. It must be a male thing.

"Please don't compare me to men who barely know which end of the sword to hold."

"I didn't compare you to them. You did."

"I never specifically stated which Caeli --"

"There are only twelve of you. That doesn't leave much room for other men you can pretend to have been talking about."

Knowing these two, they could banter like this for hours. I've already got the makings of a nasty headache from the crowd noise and the general annoyance of being made to wait. Alucier and Marqesita going at each other is like adding someone with a pointy stick poking me in the temple. I wouldn't really consider it betraying a confidence either, not something this silly, if I let Alucier's secret slip. It would shut him up at least.

"He can't pilot a guymelef," I say. "He's dreadful at it. Revius mentioned something about almost stepping on his instructor."

Marqesita passes over laughter in favor of patronizing him with gooey sympathy for his poor piloting skills. "It's probably a design flaw. The things aren't meant for the vision impaired."

"Not that I don't know that you're being incredibly condescending and sarcastic, but those things are hard to see out of. And the mechanisms are a lot more complex than they look."

"Of course, Alucier, of course! Move right arm, right arm of guymelef moves. I completely understand how that might befuddle you and make you fall down and go --"

The finish of that sentence is drowned out by an explosion. There's a second of absolute stillness when everyone on the dock makes a mutual gasp of surprise and then an unbearable flood of noise rushes in as several hundred people try to form an ordered reaction to an unordered event. Alucier instinctively grabs Marqesita with one arm and me with the other and hauls us both towards the carriage that brought us here. Through the chaos, his uniform commands the respect needed to clear the path.

The road leading back to the palace is steep, but the high terrain lets us see where all this noise is coming from. Plumes of smoke that are becoming disquietingly familiar rise up from the one place everyone wanted to be this morning. I don't think anyone is that eager to go to Rampant now.

We can't make out much from sight or sound but we're left with the impression that things cannot be going well for our side. The smoke is thickening; the occasional red and orange flare from what I assume to be Zaibach guymelefs is all that can be seen through the grey. Why would we be doing well? The majority of our troops are lingering, useless, back at the yard. The outcome is not made any more promising by the appearance of a dark figure in the shape of Zaibach floating fortress directly over the fight.

The palace is on full alert when we return. That means Marqesita and I are going to stay safely sequestered deep within palace walls until this is over. Marqesita doesn't utter a single complaint, perhaps the worst sign of all of how serious this is. Alucier escorts us to my room and orders us to stay put before leaving to see what he can do. In times of crisis, knights and guards outrank their charges, regardless of the regality of their blood.

"Nothing to do but wait until the smoke clears," Marqesita sighs, but it lacks the bite of a complaint.

There is little else to do. Though Alucier probably has a nice little lecture he would give us, we quickly grow tired of staring at each other and go in search of someone who might know what's going on or a spot where we might be able to discern that for ourselves. We find Millerna, who isn't much help with either of our goals. She says she's looking for Hitomi. The two had a pleasant morning of helping the laundresses and talking about something Millerna isn't keen to go into, but she hasn't seen her since.

"I'm worried," Millerna says. "Whenever anything bad like this happens, Hitomi has those awful visions."

Ever the empathetic one, Marqesita concludes, "So she would know what's going on, right?"

Millerna gapes at her but I can't really feign indignation. If it meant I could find out what's happening, I would pick Hitomi's brain too. There were some troops that made it to Rampant. The crew and commander of the Crusade, along with Van Fanel, were in that number. Add that to the fact that the group Revius was in left late last night and there are too many people I know for the too few people that are there.

Marqesita, getting the idea, lets us be and drifts over to a window. "Excuse me," she calls to us before long, "but a long pillar of white light, is that a good or bad sign?"

"Pillar of light?" Millerna repeats. "That's how Hitomi said she came from the Mystic Moon and then later to Asturia."

"Oh, sure. So much more convenient than using a leviship," Marqesita snorts. "Odd and odder, that girl…"

That would explain why Millerna couldn't find Hitomi. Tracking down a girl can be so difficult when mysterious forces are transporting her from spot to spot. Joking aside, I sincerely hope the light Marqesita saw wasn't an indication that Hitomi's been sent to the middle of the fighting.

Millerna's had the same thought. She's round the corner and resuming her search before a curious Marqesita and I can even get moving. 

Hitomi is by her room, hunched over by the glass doors out to the balcony. They don't give her a good view of Rampant but the weariness on her face seems to say she doesn't need it. She already knows exactly what happened. 

"Hitomi…?" Millerna asks.

She asks again.

"Sometimes it better to leave people be. Especially when they're giving you subtle hints like total silence." That's sensitive for Marqesita, but obvious enough to get Millerna to relent.

"Hitomi, if you need anything…" Millerna says to her friend. To me, she expresses a desire to find her husband. Of course, Dryden will be getting the most accurate and current news from Rampant. She'll do her duty as a supportive wife and overhear the best intelligence.

We pass Merle in the hall. She's going to get Hitomi so they can meet Van Fanel on his way back to the palace. She's doesn't care that it might be evening until any of the troops start returning. It probably wouldn't matter if it were next week.

It's not long until dusk falls. Since leaving Hitomi, I've been helping Marqesita wrangle a new flight home. Understandably to me but not so much to her, all leviships have been grounded until it can be confirmed Zaibach's no longer around. I do concede Marqesita's point that it could take forever for that to happen since Zaibach likes to fly around in invisible ships.

"No offense, but what do your people expect? Zaibach to make an announcement? We're leaving now. See, watch us go. We're just dots in the sky to you now!"

"They're just trying to keep everyone safe, Marqesita."

"I know, I know. And I'd feel awfully foolish in the few seconds I'd have left to live if one of their fortresses materialized right in front of my ship. But this is growing beyond frustrating and -- What? Another one?"

Another one being another pillar of light. I missed the first; all but the blind can see this one. The light, from just on the outskirts of Palas, extends deep into the sky, beyond it. All the way to the Mystic Moon?

Darkness chases up from the tail of the pillar to its end, taking the light and whoever was eclipsed by it to their destination. But with the length of the pillar and Hitomi's earlier silence, the who and the where doesn't really seem all that mysterious.

Even Marqesita senses it. "We're not going to go frantically searching for that Hitomi girl this time, are we?"

"No," I say. "I believe that would be futile."

"Huh. And odder still… I guess this means the wedding's off."

***

Much as I complain about it, the joy of a robust network of palace gossip is that finding the information you need is a matter of walking the halls long enough to overhear the right conversation. In the single loop I've made through the north wing (circuitous, but with purposeful stops -- I have a reputation to uphold and the second you look like you're listening is the second people make themselves hard to hear) I've learned several interesting facts. Hitomi was seen leaving the palace shortly before the second pillar of light and not since. Millerna's instinct to find Dryden was right as he convened an impromptu conference on the very objects of our curiosity. It was important enough that even the Strategos was lured out of his basement lair to attend. Details of the meeting are sketchy but Van Fanel sulked out in a state of brooding that would do Allen Schezar proud. Allen himself did not seem to be of the same mood, but it should be noted he has withdrawn to his family estate.

All that information to process and, of course, I find myself dwelling on the last bit. Allen reclaimed his family estate years ago upon his return to Asturian society, but, to my knowledge, never actually spent any significant amount of time there afterwards. He does keep a skeleton staff to maintain the manor. When he lived in Palas, the head maid, Aelia, would visit him periodically to keep him appraised of any repairs that needed to be made and the general activities of the staff but that was the limit of his involvement. He never held any functions there, never took anyone there, never spent a single night there.

So what does it mean that he's there now? Is this an expansion on what I heard at his mother's grave? He's made peace with his father, does that mean he no longer fears the memories lingering at his childhood home?

And one last question -- what does this have to do with the vanishing of the girl he cared enough about to propose to her? Is going home a retreat from this newest blow or is it a step to overcome it?

So it's actually two more questions. There's a third one lingering, but it's for me to answer: why can't I stop asking all these damned questions?

***

It's amazing the relief the familiarity of ritual can bring. The number of breakfasts I've had with my cadre of Caeli must be up in the hundreds with the number of times Revius has complained about his work in the thousands, but I'm enjoying both things this morning. I should. The beating we took at Rampant was followed by news that Zaibach has set up troops along the border. Getting all three of them here required some pulling of the strings of our overtaxed army. 

"So those idiots are just standing there, watching everything burn. Meanwhile, I'm trying to get the other troops to at least panic in an orderly fashion and get to a melef myself, but I can't because apparently people from Cesario have never seen the magic of fire and are too spellbound to move out of my way," Revius rants.

"Not that you could have done a whole lot, except get burnt to a crisp," Seclas says, mournfully enough that I wonder if he witnessed that very thing.

"Yeah, you really do need the full sized guymelef to take on those Zaibach bastards," Revius agrees. "I just felt like I should have been doing something other than pulling stupid Cesarian moths away from flames. At least Asturia got to save some face when Fanel and Allen showed up and started kicking butt."

"Wouldn't the king be saving Fanelian face?" Alucier asks.

"Well, yeah, but everyone knows he's kind of with us. We were the first people to take him in."

__

And promptly sell him out to Zaibach. Some corrections don't need to be made, though.

"Besides," Revius continues, "It's not like you can tell he's the king of anything by looking at him. When he came out of Escaflowne, most of the soldiers were wondering how some peasant kid scored such a great guymelef. Although honestly, I can see an advantage to the attire. We're out there in these ridiculous getups all 'Whee! Look at me! I'm a fancy knight! Kill me and it'll be symbolic!' while he gets to slink around inconspicuously."

"Except for the one-of-a-kind Espano guymelef that everyone in Zaibach is out to capture, you mean."

"Shut up, Lucier, you know what I meant."

This could and probably would go on well into the afternoon, but it gets interrupted by a page delivering a message that there's another messenger out in the hall that I need to speak to. It's Asturian formality at its best.

The second messenger wouldn't know anything about that. It's Gaddes, which means that the message in question must be from Allen. I can't imagine anyone else using him as a courier any more than I can imagine what Allen wants to say to me.

He hands a note to me and leans back on his heels waiting for me to read it. It is Allen's writing and he's requesting that I meet him at his mother's grave. There's nothing more except that it's urgent I do so. "Gaddes, what do you know about this?"

"I don't think I'm the one to tell you, Princess, and you probably wouldn't believe me if I told you anyway," he says. "But it's really important to the boss. He said I wasn't to leave until you gave me a time you'd meet him."

"Being awfully presumptuous, isn't he?"

"Not like many ladies tell him no," he laughs. He's too casual for this note to be a signal of something being wrong. Yet, Allen's fiancée just disappeared. I'm receiving a summons from him out of nowhere. Something may not be wrong but something is definitely going on.

He doesn't just want me to come, he expects me to come. We did talk fairly openly on the night he proposed to Hitomi. Perhaps he's assumed that the privileges of our old friendship are still in place. 

I'm in a good mood this morning. Perhaps, for today at least, they still can be. "Tell Allen I will see him this evening."

***

And once more I go to the cemetery and to Allen. Curiosity was the explanation I gave Alucier and for once, it was entirely truthful. That didn't stop him from sliding back into his old method of hearing me talk about Allen. Meaning he said 'of course', 'yes' or some variation thereof while inwardly groaning 'not again.' I can see his point. This isn't exactly unfamiliar territory. Regardless, Alucier did agree to escort me and hasn't said much more than to make comments about what kind of people would repeatedly meet each other in cemeteries. 

"Most people meet at taverns or at their estates, you know. That's why people have fancy sitting rooms. So they have somewhere to sit when company comes."

"I doubt the Schezar estate is in any condition to receive visitors, especially not royal visitors."

"And a cemetery is ever so formal. True, I doubt the two of you will be lounging against the grave markers, but…"

"But you're only complaining because you know the significance this cemetery has to my past with Allen and you think I came here far too eagerly."

"If you're going to be so open and up front about the situation, I've got nothing to be sarcastic about."

"I'm sure you'll think of something."

"Wouldn't be the same," he sniffs. "Seriously though, Eries, watch yourself. I know what you've said and I believe you. I do. But old patterns, even old, bad patterns, are comfortable and easy to slip into."

"I know. But avoiding Allen in potentially uncomfortable situations was an old pattern, too. For whatever reason, he requested my company. It's common courtesy that I accept the invitation. This doesn't have to mean anything more than that."

"Fine," he agrees, but not without tacking on a warning. "Remember that. He's vulnerable which always used to make you vulnerable. So you should treat it like an audience. Just be nice and formal."

"Like a sitting room," I assure him, knowing what I'm about to ask. "But I don't think this is an audience that requires an armed guard by my side so if you don't mind, it's probably been awhile since you've visited your grandfather…"

More well-intentioned advice looks to be on the tip of his tongue but he settles for an exasperated sigh. He walks off to the section of the cemetery where his relative is buried, mumbling that he never saw the man that much when he was alive.

The Schezar plots are further up the hill. Allen, in his Caeli uniform, has already arrived. He's leaning over his mother's grave marker and when he rights himself I see that he's not alone. He's explaining something to a figure kneeling on the ground but I can't tell what. From here, I can't really see who his company is. I gather it's a girl from her slender build but she's wearing one of Allen's outfits. I remember the time when I had to borrow similar clothes from Allen and wonder who exactly this girl is and what her circumstances are.

Allen bows slightly as I approach. "Princess Eries, thank you for coming. I want you to meet someone."

The girl cocks her head back to see who Allen's talking to but doesn't add anything herself. Fortunate, since I wouldn't know how to reply. Her eyes, eyes of that rich sapphire blue that mark her every bit as they mark Chid, lock on mine and in the space of a blink an old mystery is solved and so many new ones take its place.

Allen makes the unnecessary introduction. His sister is unimpressed with meeting a princess and returns to her mother's grave marker. I rely on my standard royal posture to keep myself from gawking as Allen explains how Celena, missing for so long, came to be here in front of us today.

He doesn't know as much as he wants to, that's apparent. It was late last night. The house staff has already gone to bed while Allen stayed up to 'think on things' and Celena simply appeared. She walked into the house, dazed and weary from what looked to be a long trek through the woods bordering the estate but apparently with nothing else wrong with her. 

__

Physically, I say to myself. She's so quiet, so intent on the ground in front of her. If she's aware that we're talking about her, she doesn't show it. Something is… _off_… about her, but I can't say exactly what it is or if it's just the shock of her being here and I certainly can't blame Allen for overlooking it. Miracles aren't supposed to be questioned. 

It doesn't hurt to confirm them, though. "So she really _is_ Celena."

"Yes. It's been ten years, but I'd recognize my sister Celena anywhere. The poor thing doesn't remember where she's been all this time."

"She's lost her memory?" That would explain what was wrong with her. To leave your home in the morning and return in the night but with ten years between it and no knowledge of how those years passed… 'Poor thing' hardly covers it.

It's going to be rough for her. Allen will, of course, stay by her side and do whatever he can to help her. At least he will once the looming war allows him to. It must kill him to have to leave her so soon after finding her. He's already thought of this, though. He's already planning for her care. 

"Princess Eries. Take care of my sister while I'm away fighting. You're the only one I can trust her to."

Another request that assumes a positive response. It's not a false assumption. The trained diplomat in me answers, "Very well. She's the sister of a Knight Caeli. I'll take care of her at the palace." 

The other aspects of me are not so dispassionate. This is so much more than a brother trying to provide protection for his sister. This is Celena: one of many of Allen's loved ones to leave him, the first to actually come back. It's a touch surreal that I am here, calmly discussing this with him as if we make these arrangements all the time. I had written off the possibility of her return long ago and thought Allen was torturing himself by clinging to it. Yet here Celena is, sitting right there, watching a butterfly. An article of faith given back to a man who was given so many reasons to disbelieve.

And I am the only one he will trust her to. 

The implications of his asking, the implications of my readily given acceptance --

All become trivial with a scream. Celena hunches over, shrieking in unknown pain.

"Celena!" Allen calls to her.

There's a crunching sound, an unnatural, sickening noise coming from _within_ Celena. I can only stare at her, dumbfounded at what can be causing this to happen to her and silently offering a prayer to the gods that it stop. 

Finally, her scream deepens into a moan and she stands. Or someone is standing where Celena was. Her hair, her figure, her bearing… 

Allen asks the question that's both obvious and foolish. "Are you all right, Celena?"

"Celena?" says a voice that clearly has no idea who Celena is. More horrifying, when its owner turns, I know exactly who he is. I only saw Dilandau Albatau once when Zaibach came to Palas earlier this summer but it was a lasting impression. He was the one who set fire to Palas. He was the one who cavalierly dismissed it as collateral damage we should have expected. 

He is not so sure of himself now. "Where am I? What am I doing here?"

Allen's trying to piece it together too. "Are you a Doppelganger?"

But Dilandau won't answer. He keeps screaming 'Jajuka' over and over in a frantic mantra. It takes me a while to realize he's crying for help.

Unbelievably, the cry is answered. The space at the edge at the cemetery ripples and bends into the shape of a Zaibach guymelef. We had no idea it was there. It could have attacked at any time and we couldn't have done a thing.

"What!?" Allen yells in confusion while moving protectively in front of me. "Princess Eries!"

I readily fall in behind him.

Dilandau's face practically beams in relief as the pilot calls out to him. He runs eagerly to his savior, leaving Allen to cry desperately, futilely after him to wait. With another shift in the air, the guymelef, and Dilandau, are gone. Celena, if she was ever really here at all, is gone again.

So quickly, it's over. The winds created by the guymelef's liftoff settle into a feint breeze. Recloaked, I can't tell in what direction it went. There's nothing but clear sky to the horizon. The cemetery, save for a few birds and a Caeli frantically sprinting up the hill, is still. Another glorious Asturian summer day.

***

None of us is in a hurry to leave the cemetery. Allen keeps staring at the spot where the Zaibach guymelef had hidden itself, as if it would reappear and the whole scene could be replayed or reversed until Celena was once again with him. I'm having a time of it trying to explain to Alucier what happened. He's familiar with the story of Celena's disappearance and the effect it had on Allen, but the events of the past few minutes defy rationale explanation.

"Maybe it wasn't really her," Alucier says quietly to me. "Allen is closely connected to both Van Fanel and Hitomi Kanzaki. As a high ranking knight, he also has knowledge to our battle plans. This could have been a ploy."

"That is possible but it doesn't explain everything. It certainly doesn't explain how she changed from Celena into Dilandau. From what I know of Doppelgangers, their shape-shifting ability doesn't work that way."

"Some secret Zaibach technology? They can hide a guymelef in plain sight. Who's to say they can't make a person look like somebody else?"

"Folken Fanel," Allen says abruptly. "He worked with Dilandau. He knows about Zaibach technology."

His next step decided, Allen can't get back to the palace to confront the former Strategos fast enough. He's on his carriage and driving it away so quickly that Millerna and Dryden are coming out to greet me when Alucier finally stops ours behind his at the palace.

"I get the feeling that there's something I should know," Dryden says. "Allen comes into to my office demanding to know where Folken Fanel is, but he won't say why he needs to know except to ask you."

"It's…complicated. But where is Fanel anyway?"

"Out partying at the docks," Dryden says wryly, "Or in his dungeon/lab where he always is."

The dungeon/lab better be spacious. Millerna insists on coming with me, Dryden too. This has riled his curiosity and a curious Dryden is one of the more determined creatures on Gaea. Only Alucier defers to Allen's privacy, or at least pretends to, volunteering to move the carriages out of the way while signaling to me that he'll be available for discussion later.

I assume Allen's been through all the basic opening questions because he's already at the meat of the conversation when we three arrive at the lab. 

Fanel doesn't look shocked by the line of questioning but I doubt he would show any emotion if Allen decided to do this interrogation at sword point. "Dilandau…" he intones. "I'm sorry but I don't know much about his past. But it seems certain that the Sorcerers are behind him."

"Sorcerers?!" Allen exclaims out loud as I ask the question mentally. Zaibach uses some sort of magic? Is there anything that empire won't resort to?

"Zaibach's scientists, who answer only to Dornkirk himself. Rumor has it that, in order to change a man's fate, they performed experiments on live subjects. They used kidnapped children."

All the pieces of the puzzle fall neatly, horrifically into place. Celena was kidnapped and taken to Zaibach. That's why no body was ever found or there were never any ransom demands. Zaibach had other goals. They changed her, forced her to become another person entirely. It's not surprising Dilandau acted as crazed as he did. He is what Zaibach made him to be - their perfect specimen, built over the buried soul of an innocent girl. 

"They experimented on people?!" Allen cries. "Celena… Celena, she's…" He can't finish. He can't say what his sister has been turned into.

Dryden snorts in disgust. "This is sick. How could a human being do something like that to a child? What kind of world is this?"

"Dryden…" Millerna says softly.

"With Dilandau reverting to his original body and back again, the process has obviously become unstable, indicating that the effects of Fate Alteration are far from permanent," Folken says, offering a seemingly rare bit of compassion. "They could possibly be negated."

"Would you know how?" I ask.

"No, but I know of those who likely do. The Sorcerers generally stay sequestered at Zaibach's capital, safety locked away in their laboratories. Should you and your allies win the capital, you will be able to take them alive."

"Thank you." 

Fanel declines my gratitude but offers another piece of advice to Allen. "Dilandau will not be kept off the front lines and he has many enemies. You should seek him out and neutralize him before anyone can exact their revenge."

Allen eyes widen. "Van…"

"Among others," Folken says but even I know of Van Fanel's reciprocated hatred for Dilandau. It could be disastrous if Allen found Dilandau after Van had gotten to him and not just for the two Schezars. Even if Van should win, if he found out after the fact who exactly it was he had killed, I don't think the young king has grown bitter enough to be able to forgive himself.

That might be the source of Folken Fanel's sympathy for Allen. He knows the desperate drive to protect a younger sibling.

"We can have Van restationed to keep him away. And Allen, you'll still be on the front line and Scherazade is one of the fastest guymelefs there is," I say, parroting information Alucier and Revius once fed me. "You'll find her in time."

Millerna chimes in with her agreement. Folken Fanel merely nods at Allen before retreating to the recesses of the lab. Dryden's still too angry at what Zaibach's sorcerers did to offer much support.

And Allen… He's simply learned too much, faces too much of a task to be able to do anything but try to absorb it all without it crushing him. Not exactly his forte.

I take his arm to at least get him away from this lab. "Come on, you'll need to be rested for tomorrow."

"Tomorrow… right…

Celena…" 

***

I feel like a shepherd leading a lost and disoriented lamb taking Allen to his room. He's lapsed into silence since last uttering his sister's name and his body seems to have fallen into the same stupor. I have to walk with one hand on his back and the other clutching his arm, while he responds to my guidance automatically. Push a little on his back, he moves forward. Tug a little to the right, he turns right. Step after step until we've put the Strategos' lab behind us and reached… what exactly?

These are the quarters Allen used before he returned to his family's estate but I don't know what to do now that I've gotten him here. _Go to bed early and get some sleep, Allen. What happened to your sister will seem less horrifying in the morning._ Hardly. Sleep, if it ever comes, won't erase what we saw at the cemetery or anything that Folken Fanel said. I wouldn't wish the kind of nightmares that both could create on anyone.

I know better than to offer him any drink. He's tried that remedy before, upon learning of Marlene's engagement, to bad results. If I hadn't pulled him out of Tuvello's before he could drink himself completely stupid, if I hadn't dragged him up the stairs into to my room before his commanding officer found him, if I hadn't told him to see Marlene one last time to sort things through…

I wouldn't have a five-year old nephew for one thing. Gods, it actually has been that long. I've let six years pass full of promises and decisions to say this to Allen, to be that to him and it's all come round again, right down to me trying to carry him away from his pain. Alucier was right. The old cycle that I ended a friendship to escape never really stopped; it just swung a wider loop this time in trying to bring me back in.

I know how the circle moves. The spaces between hope to disappointment to hope again stretched long this time, but it's still on the old, too-worn path. I suppose the only way to end the repetition is to break away from it entirely, to refuse to follow Allen's lead, to walk away again.

The cost though, to Allen, especially tonight, is too much. I thought Hitomi Kanzaki would take over this role, but she's gone. The hope Celena's reappearance created is gone too, replaced by a greater despair over what happened to her. 

Yet, really, in the end, wouldn't either girl just be taking the same place I held? Celena for Hitomi for Millerna for me for Marlene, all the way back to his mother, I guess. The ideal practitioner of chivalry - he needs to protect the women around him because he needs them to protect him in return. How much safer he would be if he learned to protect himself. So much easier, too. 

And yet still, I feel like I should do something. A draught from the palace doctors might get him the dreamless sleep he needs. I offer to get one for him but he refuses. "Princess… Eries… If you could just stay for awhile…"

I well remember that pleading. I well remember my typical response to it. Old, comfortable patterns and all that. So what is worse? Being overly cautious or not cautious at all?

"Allen, I don't…. I don't know what more I can do for you."

"I don't want you to do anything except stay."

I can see him under different circumstances charming women with a similar line. Delivered by a smile, and perhaps a slight caress of the arm, a canny woman would melt under the allure even as she realized the basic premise of the line was bunk. It's even harder to resist when there's no smile, no intimate gestures, just the raw, basic need to not be alone.

"All right, Allen, for a little while."

He thanks me, clears a bedside chair of his spare uniform for me to sit in and then settles at the edge the bed. The moons are on the rise, pouring light into the room and almost making the wall sconces redundant. It's an ideal setting for a quiet, intimate talk that neither one of us moves to exploit for long minutes.

"I could have the kitchens send up some food, if you'd like." Another banal suggestion, I know, but something has to fill this room other than the silence of his thoughts.

"No," he whispers. "That's not necessary. We… Celena and I… we ate before we came to meet you. Can you believe that? We actually used the formal dining room. It was just some bread and meats, but that's what you're supposed to do. The family of the estate takes their meals together in the formal dining room."

"I can't imagine how good that must have felt, to be able to be with her even for something so mundane."

"That's what made it so good," he says. He's more animated now. He wants to talk about this. "Celena was back and we were doing something so normal, as if we had been doing it all along, as if neither of us had ever left even though it had been so long. Before, the idea of living there, in a family estate that has no family, I couldn't stand it."

"I remember how little you went there, how you talked about it even less. I was surprised to find out that you had gone there yesterday."

"To be honest," he sighs, "I was surprised by that myself. "But after Hitomi went home, I wondered if I should do the same thing myself."

I expected to hear some kind of pain in his voice when he said her name, or at the least some kind of bitter acceptance. Instead, there was genuine warmth. It's unusual for him and worth exploring, especially if it keeps the topic off Celena. "You must miss her…"

"I do, but it's best for her to be back home. She's safe there. She's with family and friends."

"But I thought you wanted to be her family. You love her."

This actually draws a small smile from him. "I do, just not quite in the way I thought I did. She's a special person, a good friend. I wanted to protect her."

"So that's why you proposed to her?"

"Partly, and partly because I thought I could be happy with her. I probably could have been. I don't know. It seemed so simple when she was here but once she left, once I started thinking about what that meant to me, I realized more than anything, *I was happy for her*."

__

Or you were able to rationalize that loss better than the others. Something tells me that isn't it, though. Allen had the scapegoats of his father, the excuse of societal rules and his duty to cover everything from his mother's death to Marlene's marriage to Mahad. He didn't accept events so much as explain them away and deny how much they truly affected them. He could be doing the same thing here, but it doesn't quite feel like he is.

"What would you do if she came back? Would the proposal still stand?"

He looks at me quizzically and I realize just how long it's been since I've delved into his life like this. "Hitomi never did give me an answer. I think she knew. She knew how I really felt because she probably feels the same."

"So there is a woman out there capable of resisting your charm." Gods, where did that come from?

"Not too many," he says and the small smile returns. "And she might have fallen for the charm of another. I know he has for her. You should have seen Van when the pillar of light took Hitomi away. It was like a piece of his soul was being torn out of him."

"I heard that he was upset, but I didn't know the extent of it."

"He'll be all right. I imagine Merle is with him. She understands him more than you would think."

"Considering she's practically attached to his arm, she should have spent enough time with him to learn every last thing about him."

"They've known each others for years. That kind of history bonds people."

It does, more than I've been admitting to myself. I've placed so much importance, for both me and Allen, on moving on that I've never considered that it didn't have to mean moving away. People change, people grow. My qualms with Allen were that he refused to do either, but that doesn't seem to hold true anymore. Old Allen would never have let Hitomi go, either with such ease or affection. I don't know if Old Allen could have even survived the cruel taunt that was Celena's reappearance. At the least, he'd be obsessing on it, spending the night plotting strategies, no matter how reckless they might be, to get her back. Old Eries would have probably stood by with her mouth shut while she fumed over the fact he wasn't acting exactly like she wanted him to act and mentally pictured how wondrous and problem free Allen's life would be if he would just fall in love with her.

I'll be charitable and say I wasn't quite that absurd, but I was close. I worried so much and for so long over telling Allen how I felt about him that I missed the obvious outcome. If I had confessed, he would have eaten it up. Another forbidden romance would have given him years of brooding material and I would have been right there brooding away with him, wondering why my love hadn't yet transformed him into Perfect Allen and using that to fuel doubts as to whether or not he truly returned my affections. What a fun couple we would have made; the cemetery would have been a far too cheerful a place for us to spend our time.

"Are you all right?" he asks after I inadvertently let out a laugh. 

"I'm fine, just thinking about the past," I say. 

"Something very amusing about the past…"

"Not really, but sometimes a situation will come along that's so tangled and awful, laughing seems to be the best defense against it."

"I wouldn't know," he says honestly. "Was it really that bad though, what you were remembering?" 

"At the time, it seemed like the most serious thing in the world. If I were still in the situation, it would still be the most serious thing in the world."

"It's not so serious now?"

"It's…" It was a large part of my life, a large part of his. Neither one of us would be the people we are on this night without it. We went through problem after problem (and some of the problems over and over again) and it ended badly, but that's not all that it was. We went to theaters together, to fairs, to markets. We must have walked the entire palace grounds a hundred times over. I can order his favorite meal in any given tavern and he can do the same for me. Over those meals, during those walks, we talked. We talked about more than the bad times. It didn't matter if it was a shared interest or an interest only one of us held but the other discussed anyway because they knew it was important; we could go on and on. And when we were going over the bad times, I took comfort from it. Even though it turned out to not be enough, I believe Allen took some too.

"It may not be the most serious thing in all the world, but it's important in mine. The difference between now and then is that I can look back a little more objectively and see everything for what is really was."

"I see," he says and I think that might actually be true. I've been vague but there's only so much of my past that he isn't a part of. "I know how perspectives on things can change. My past with my father hasn't changed, but I can think of him without any anger. I still think he was wrong to leave us, but I understand why he made that choice and I know that he regretted it."

"That must have been an amazing gift, to be able to see him again and come to that understanding…"

"He'd been gone for over ten years and I was able to find him. I never thought I was going to see him again; I didn't want to see him again. Yet his spirit wanted to see me so much, it clung to that place, waiting and hoping that I'd come."

"And you did. Maybe more by accident than anything but in the end, you were able to find him."

"Fate is such a strange thing," he says as he gets up from the bed and begins to pace. "Hitomi got her pendant from her grandmother, who got it from my father. Without the pendant, we never would have made it Atlantis. Without Hitomi, I doubt I would have been in any condition to reconcile with my father. If we hadn't reconciled, I wouldn't have been able to go back home. If I hadn't been home last night, I wouldn't have seen Celena again."

I knew we would come back to her. You can ignore the elephant in the room for awhile but eventually, someone's going to bring it up and demand something be done to take care of it.

Allen, at least, is being as optimistic about her as he was with Hitomi and his father. "It shouldn't be that hard to find her tomorrow. I've only ever seen one red guymelef in Zaibach's entire fleet. The trick is to find her and before Dilandau can do too much damage or anyone can do damage to him."

"You're still worried about Van Fanel, aren't you? We'll have to check on having him posted away from the front tomorrow morning."

"Assuming we can find him," Allen says. "He doesn't come to the palace often. He doesn't have a commanding officer. He *is* Fanelia's army. But I can't worry about that. Celena is my priority."

"And when you find Dilandau?"

"I'm not sure. I'm hoping it's like Folken said: the process that made him is unstable and Celena will be able to assert herself or…something. Gods," he hisses, "I don't even know how this works."

"I wonder if the sorcerers that did it know either. To tamper with a human life like that, they have to be lacking something in their souls."

"If they have any at all. But whatever it takes, if I have to deal with Dilandau until I can find a way to bring back Celena, I'll deal with Dilandau. The crew of the Crusade will stick close to me. They know how to move quickly and keep silent once their work is done. They can harbor him until the fighting's over."

So he is spending the night plotting reckless strategies after all, but not quite how I imagined it. Few things about this conversation have been as I would have imagined them. I like this new Allen. I saw the little changes in him and wondered how deep they really ran, how long they would last when they were challenged. And here he is, shoring up plans to save his sister calmly, logically and resolutely in terms of a positive outcome. What's the old joke - who are you and what have done with the real Allen Schezar?

I don't laugh out loud this time but Allen stops planning long enough to question my amused expression. "Laughing about the past again?"

"No, the present. This has been an…_interesting_…evening. Different from the talks -"

"- the talks we used to have."

"Yes."

"Better, right?"

"Definitely."

"For one, you haven't walked out the door yet."

"Allen, I - "

"You don't have to explain. I know why you did it. I all but escorted you to that door. You warned me about Millerna and I didn't listen. You warned me about a lot of things and I didn't listen. I couldn't. Not then."

"You're not wholly to blame, Allen. I kept things from you; I kept them from myself. I had a very clear vision in my mind of who you could be and I had no right to be angry with you for failing to live up to it."

"But you had every right to walk away if the person I was was hurting you."

"Well, yes. That's true."

His apologies come to a crashing halt. A bit wounded but in a playful manner that erases over a year of chilly formality, he asks, "Weren't you supposed to defend me? Say something along the lines of 'I was hurting myself'? Or dispute that I hurt you at all?"

"You wish for me to lie to prop up your ego?"

He's instantly back to being serious. "No. I don't want you to protect me anymore. I shouldn't expect you to. You shouldn't feel as if you have to."

"That won't stop me from wanting to. But I have to learn how to better walk the line between helping a friend and forcing help upon a friend."

"Now that's how it's supposed to go. I pick myself apart; you pick yourself apart."

"Hmm. I'm not so sure about that. I know I'm a picky person, but that takes it too far."

"A pun? I haven't heard a pun from you in… In a very long time. Too long. I've missed this."

"I haven't. Alucier and Revius banter on like this all the time. Seclas is the one that makes the puns though - "

"Eries…"

"I have missed that."

"I missed you."

We never could banter very long without sliding into more profound talk. Somber conversation for somber people. Maybe we can work on that this time around…only later. 

Right now, candid, heartfelt admissions are bringing a deeper joy to me than any amount of larking about ever could and I have one of my own to make. "I've missed you, too."

He hesitates, briefly but with an endearing awkwardness from someone normally so suave, before pulling up from my chair. It's debatable who hugs the other first. He folds his arms around me and I sink against his chest with a feeling that's familiar, yet new and better than in any time in the past. 

We hold each other. Two friends reuniting, nothing more and nothing less, and for the very first time since I first laid eyes upon him, I don't want anything more. I know this. I know it just as I know I was foolish to ever think I could divorce myself entirely from Allen simply because we aren't bound by blood. We have our history. Pocked by tragedies and misunderstandings, but it's ours. It doesn't need to be rewritten. We were friends. That's all we needed to be and if that's all we ever are, I can accept this.

Embracing doesn't erase the past few months of separation and I don't want it to. We are not the people who fought over his actions with Millerna, but without them, we could not have grown into anything better. 

There is one thing that is unchanged, another thing I know. I do love him. I do, but to quote Allen, just not quite in the way I thought I did. It's not the one-sided, insecure love I felt for him in the past. That wasn't good for either of us. Instead, it's the simple love of knowing he is the person in this world I am closest to and I am the same to him. The love I always had from him, but never thought was enough.

What wonderfully stupid irony. 

"Eries, not that I mind, but what has you laughing this time?"

"I just realized that all I ever needed and what I want now is what I already knew I had but used to think was what I never wanted."

"I will take your word for that."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to spoil the moment. Or be so inarticulate."

"No, it's fine," he says. "You made this moment. I was still in shock when you brought me here. I kept thinking of Celena, Dilandau and what Zaibach must have done to her to change one into the other. I didn't know whether to shut down or try to make some sense of it. And I remember how we used to talked…and you there you were -"

"Because you asked me to stay."

"You didn't have to."

"And you didn't have to ask me. But you did. And you didn't have to be so open about Hitomi. But you were. And so on and so forth. To be more accurate, _we_ made this moment."

"_We. _That does sound better, but I do know what you meant earlier, no matter how poorly you stated it. I could have been miserable tonight. I could have wallowed in it and tortured myself with images Celena and Dilandau. I didn't. And tomorrow, I can go into battle knowing I will find my sister. You see," he pauses. "I've gotten my father back. I've gotten you back. I will get my sister back."

So pleased am I with by Allen's optimism, I hardly notice a third source of inspiration. Yet again, Asturia bears witness to that white pillar of light. It's briefer than the others and somewhat further off in the distance but its meaning couldn't be clearer. 

Allen, his left arm still around my shoulder, smiles at the sight. "It looks like Van got Hitomi back, too."

***

Took me long enough, didn't it? Many apologies and thanks for your patience (and Ron and his Sakura's persistence ^_^). Props to RahS for the donation of the chapter name as well. Originally I made the pun 'Sister, Interrupted' but this chapter is much more about Eries and Allen's reunion than Celena so now the pun refers to this story's prequel. 

Next up - One last and (mostly) happy chapter and it's a wrap. 'How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Energist Bomb.' 


	12. How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love

"Always…"

XI: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Energist Bomb

For breakfast, the kitchens sent up the same breads, juices and meats they usually do, but this particular morning, they're in a larger quantity than they've been for quite some time. It's a special occasion. Soon, the men sitting with me will be off to battle. It's unknown when we'll hold this morning ritual again. No one should want for anything.

Then, of course, there's the fourth Caeli at the table, one that's been missing from his seat since being sent off to Fort Castelo years ago.

Alucier and Revius have set up a pattern of staring at me and then Allen that leaves to the two of us under constant supervision lest one of us decides to explain his returned presence. Seclas isn't participating; he's more interested in the map Allen's brought with him for one last review of his personal battle plan. The map, the fresh product of predawn intelligence and procured by pointing out to the clerk printing them out who is the princess of this country and who is not, is covered with colored shapes representing the armies of Asturia and our allies. The black squares representing Zaibach box in the brighter colors on two sides. Allen's added marks of his own, all around the area of the map where the convergence of different inks is the thickest – the front lines, where he, and presumably Dilandau, will be in just a few short hours.

"You planning on taking on Zaibach all by yourself, Schezar?" Seclas asks. The thin lines Allen's drawn aren't connected to any others, giving the appearance of a solitary strike.

"Oh, Allen likes to do things on his own," Revius opines, "Take eating breakfast, for example. Yes, he has joined our company this fine morning, but this is not his usual behavior. One might say it's quite UN-usual."

"Real subtle," mumbles Alucier.

"Hey, staring wasn't getting us anywhere and don't even try to pretend that you don't want to know. It's not like these two are known for volunteering information, either."

"Then perhaps your time would be better spent not expecting to hear any," I say to him. I don't have any intention of keeping the details of my reconciliation with Allen secret but Revius is all but begging to be toyed with. It's what he expects. It's what he would do. It's what I would normally do too. To let such an opportunity go would be like a maudlin admission of doubt that I'll have another. I can hear him bemoaning what the ill omen of a sentimental Eries portends very clearly.

"Aw, come on, Eries," Revius now literally begs, albeit sarcastically. "You know how we lowly knights live off the news of nobles' private lives. And your life is usually so boring. It's not fair to tell us all the political crap and withhold the good stuff."

Allen takes a second from his study of the map to give Revius the eye. My honor has not quite been insulted but he is overprotective of his friends. He'll rush to defend me, should I need it.

I am more than capable of defending myself in this small fight. "Honestly, Revius. If it's that important to you, why don't you don a dress and infiltrate a pack of handmaidens? The news will trickle down to you eventually."

"Hah. Half the time they know the news before it happens. We should send a couple into Zaibach. That'll beat whatever intelligence we got going now."

"I'm sure they'd be more than willing to serve," Alucier says. "Especially after hearing how their princess and Caeli knight refuse to stereotype them."

"Aren't we all special taking the moral high ground?" Revius shoots back. "And while it's always fascinating to hear Alucier show how witty and just he is, we're getting off the subject at hand. Allen… What the hell are you doing here, man?"

Revius pounds the table to make sure Allen's paying attention, which, he isn't. He's tapping his finger over a solitary red circle, the symbol for Fanelia.

Seclas misreads the gesture. "If you're worried about the king not showing up, that's not going to be a problem. That Mystic Moon girl came back to the palace real early this morning and she said he went ahead to the front."

We heard that news when we were acquiring the map. Allen was glad to confirm Van Fanel had safely retrieved Hitomi from the Mystic Moon; he only wished the two would have come back to Palas together instead of the king going off on his own. Light was just breaking and already someone had a head start in finding Dilandau.

"He's probably waiting with another army's troops until the fighting begins," I suggest. "It wouldn't make much sense for him to go charging in alone."

"Uh, yeah," Revius says. "And everything I've seen of Fanel indicates a level-headed youth who would never let emotion overtake strategic planning."

It's a good thing Revius is sitting beside me today. My foot never would have reached far enough to kick him if he had been further down the table.

"No," Allen says. "I don't think Van's that reckless, at least not anymore. But he isn't my only concern. I should be going. I do need to talk to Hitomi before leaving."

Revius takes care to scoot his chair away from me before he speaks. "It would be bad form to take off for war without saying goodbye to your fiancée. She is still your fiancée, right? Your interpersonal relationships with women are confusing to me as of late."

"Hitomi is my friend," Allen answers, "as is Eries." As a friend, he bows to me and goes before Revius can make any blunt demands for specifics.

"I guess this means we have to stop making fun of him on your behalf," Alucier says. "Which is fine, because he was our friend too, but also a bit of shame, considering the large amount of material he gave us to work with."

"Just wait awhile, he'll screw up again."

"Ever the optimist, aren't you, Revius?" I say. "I hate to disappoint you, but I don't think that will be happening. It's hard to gather over one breakfast but he has changed – a lot and for the better."

"Does this have anything to do with that girl at the cemetery that he thought was his sister?" Alucier asks. I haven't had the chance to fill him in on that.

Revius and Seclas haven't heard anything at all about that incident. "His what?!" they shout.

I try to think of a way to explain this without it dragging into lunch. "The girl was Celena and Allen has every intention of getting her back. That's why he was pouring over that map and in a hurry to leave."

"His sister… Damn, it has been eventful around here lately," Revius says. "Which means you'll be doing a lot of explaining when the three of us get back."

"The three of you…?" Only Revius and Seclas should be going into combat. I look at Alucier but he won't meet my eyes.

"Guys, why don't you two go on without me? I think I need to discuss some things with Eries."

Sensing how this discussion is going to go, they clear out fast enough that Revius' chair is still rocking when I confront Alucier.

"I take it this means you'll be fighting. Why? Your primary duties are to me; I can ensure that you stay here at the palace. If Lord Ramkin gave you an order, I can countermand it. "

"Nobody gave me an order, I volunteered."

"You volunteered?! You want to go into a war zone? You can't even pilot a guymelef."

"A lot of the fighting is going to be on the ground, man-to-man and they didn't give me this uniform just because I look so pretty in it."

"But when's the last time you've had combat experience?"

"The same can be said for every man who wasn't at Rampant. The difference between those men and me is that I practice a great deal more. I'll have you know I took out Revius in a sparring match not too long ago. It was when he had that cold, but the only other person I've seen best him is Allen. You're not hassling either one of them about going."

"That doesn't mean I want them to go; it means I know I can't stop them from going. Allen needs to find Celena. After everything she must have been put through, Celena needs to be found. And Revius? I can't argue that someone with his command experience and combat skill should suddenly be reassigned away from the fighting. But you are already assigned to me. You have the perfect excuse."

"And if the circumstance were different, if this was some stab at imperialism or over some leader not saying 'thank you' the right way to the king, I might use it. It's not. Zaibach made it clear what they can do with Fanelia and Freid. They've made it clear they'll do the same to us when they attacked at your sister's wedding and yesterday at Rampant. It's one of those pesky just causes and all that."

He's right. I can't say Zaibach needs to be stopped without expecting anyone to actually do the stopping. Alucier is a Knight Caeli, one of the most gifted swordsmen in Asturia, if not all of Gaea. With the title, comes a duty. As much as I would like to keep him here, doing so would be an insult to his honor.

For his leaving, I should be strong. I should give him the same treatment I gave Revius. "Can't you stay behind and fight against the unfair stereotyping of handmaidens?"

"I'll pick that battle up when I get back. We can make signs and hold protests." He waves an imaginary banner to rally our spirits. "We'll be heroes!"

Of that, I hold no doubt.

...

I expected the palace to be busy this morning, but activity around Dryden's office is a little too high. Dryden's assistant almost runs into me because he can't see around the stack of papers he's carrying. From the sweat coating his fur, I gather that isn't the first load of papers he's moved out of the office. I look through the wide open doors. Dryden's at his desk, or rather under it, sorting yet more papers. The rest of Dryden's belongings are nowhere in sight.

"Be careful!" Dryden yells when his assistant goes into a tizzy over the near collision. "Those are all my notes on the northern trade routes."

"Then why," I ask, "Along with everything else, are you removing them from your office?"

His assistant scurries off with a squeak. Dryden takes his sweet time emerging from the shelter of the desk. He could probably see how angrily I was tapping my foot. I don't know exactly what's going on here but I highly doubt Dryden would commemorate the start of the war by redecorating.

"And I thought telling Millerna was hard," he tries to joke. His audience is not amused. Running a hand through his mess of hair, he coughs out an explanation. "I'm going to leave. The people need a good merchant more than a figurehead so I'm going to rebuild my fleet. I think it's for the best."

If he's waiting for me to congratulate on his sagely decision making, he'll rot where he stands.

"So, Sister, I'm taking that the complete silence and withering glare are indications that you are in disagreement with the latter statement."

"Yes, Brother, in that one thing, you are thinking correctly."

He flops into his chair and goes about arranging his robes. Finally, he says, "There's no point in dressing this up in pretty sentiments with you, is there? So I'll be blunt. One, I'm not running away because the big, scary war I was against is coming. I've thought about this. I've thought about this a lot. People are going to need food. They're going to need supplies. Asturia's going to funnel what she has to the military, not the innocents who were living on the wrong battlefield at the wrong time. I'd rather be the guy saying 'here you go, help yourself' than the one telling everybody they need to make sacrifices while I sacrifice nothing myself. Two, I'm not abandoning anybody. I can't give you a date but I can give you a guarantee. When my work is done, I will come back, to this office and to a beautiful wife who wants me to be her husband. Does that cover everything?"

Now I know how he became such a successful merchant. It does cover a lot, including the two main points I was going to hector him on. He has valid reasons for leaving and a plan to come back. There's still a couple of in between things that bother me. "You're going out on your own. Given your intentions, you're likely to be near areas of fighting. Do you really appreciate the dangers of this? Figurehead or not, countries don't like it when their leaders die. Young wives don't like becoming widows either."

"I'm touched by your concern," he says. "And yes, I understand bad things can happen to people who put themselves in harm's way. I'll take precautions. For one thing, the guymelefs on my ship are no longer just collector's pieces. Your next argument?"

"Don't you think it's going to be difficult for Millerna to learn to love you if you're not around? Or are you planning on dazzling her with tales of your heroic exploits?"

"Heroic exploits, intellect, sparkling personality, good looks, keen wit – take your pick."

"I notice humility isn't on your list."

"Bah," he says, "A merchant humble in personality is humble in money as well. My old man was right when he taught me that at least. But you've hit on something. I don't want Millerna to have to 'learn' how to love me. I don't want her loving me because it's an obligation that comes with the job. I want her to fall wildly, madly in love me. I want her to be wife because her passion demands it. You obviously understand that."

"I 'obviously' understand that?" I'm curious as to why he thinks he has such insight into my thinking.

"Well, uh," he starts uncomfortably. "You aren't married despite having plenty of offers so you 'obviously' haven't settled for some bland political marriage over the man you're in love with." Sensing a mistake, he hastens to correct it. "Not that I think you're in love with anybody now. I meant, a man that, one day, you have the potential to be in love with."

Breathe deeply, I tell myself. _Think before you speak and keep your voice even. And for the love of Jichia, stop blushing._ Meiden is Dryden's father. Meiden has openly accused me of giving up the throne over Allen. Meiden is not above spreading his suspicions, especially not to the son he's positioned to be the next king. "Dryden, I don't know what your father told you but – "

"But he's a power hungry jerk who never liked the influence you had on the council and is the kind of guy to spread rumors to undermine you. You probably don't want to know some of the rants he's made about you. I learned several impolite words from them. Suffice it to say though, I did not let them color my opinion of you or take certain things said as fact."

"Thank you, Dryden."

"Although, I did pick up a pointer or two on how to best debate with you and that did come in very handy a minute ago."

"Well, that's good for you, Dryden…"

"Not to mention that your face is pinker than anything in Millerna's closet."

"Dryden!"

"See," he says, grinning widely, "Now you want me to leave. I can have that effect on women."

"Don't you think angering her sister might be a good way to have that effect on Millerna?!"

"Ouch. And yes, treating her sister poorly would not be a good thing to do. Honestly, I've always respected you. Anybody who can hold her own against my father deserves it. So you don't have to worry. It's none of my business how you may or may not feel about Allen Schezar. I'm not about to make it anybody else's."

"Thank you, Dryden."

Though he just said it wasn't his business, Dryden's got this look about him that says he might have an interest in the subject as a hobby. He won't ask me outright, either out of respect for my privacy or because he can't think of a way to do it without sounding rude, but the question is there.

It's better that he hears facts from me, instead of biased theories from Meiden. And, I believe I can trust him. "Your father was once right. He isn't any longer. I'm sure though he's going to get the wrong impression given my recently renewed friendship with Allen."

Dryden promises to not make the same mistake. "All three of you, huh?" he sighs. "I'd be impressed if I were the type to be impressed by that sort of thing. I'm not, by the way."

Except that I suspect that he is, only he's a subtype that's unwilling to ever admit it, even to himself. It is impressive, in a very bizarre way. What's even more bizarre is that I would bond with my brother-in-law over it and I'm one of the women involved and he is the husband of one of the others. What did I tell Allen about having a sense of humor about such entanglements?

"So you're not angry with me for leaving?" Dryden asks. "Or you're not angry enough to chase me out of the palace?"

"Neither."

"Than can you do me a favor? It's important to me," he says. It's amazing how quickly he can switch to being serious. "Millerna was upset when I gave her my ring. A part of me hopes it's because she can't bear the thought of me going, but realistically, I think she was in shock that I'm leaving so suddenly. Watch out for her, okay? She's tough, and stubborn as hell, but even the best of us need a shoulder to cry on now and then. Be there for her while I can't."

He doesn't need to tell me to stand by my sister. I understand what he means though, why he would want the reassurance that he's not causing Millerna pain. He always said he loved her. Letting her go like this might be the ultimate proof of that.

"I'll make sure she's all right, Dryden."

And with that reassurance, he switches back to the same old Dryden. "Good, good. I figured you would anyway, but now you've got my side of the story so, on the rare chance that Millerna starts going on about what an irresponsible jerk I am, you can put in a few words on my behalf. Or if any suitors sensing she's available come around, you could smack them away with a blunt object. Or a really sharp object. I'm not particular."

It's ironic that the most meaningful conversation I've had with Dryden comes right before he is to leave. I've known of him through Meiden for years but that man is hardly the most objective assessor of his son, just as he was of me. Besides, the qualities I'm finding admirable in Dryden would not be the same ones Meiden would pick to praise. Quite the opposite would be true.

Before I can feel too proud of him though, Dryden makes another request. "Oh, Eries…Could you do one more favor for your favorite brother-in-law?"

"Pushing it, aren't you?"

"Could you, say about three hours after I've left, let my father know that I'm gone?"

...

Informing Meiden that his meal ticket to the throne has decided to toss it all away to better himself shouldn't be the dour task Dryden made it out to be. For him, it might have been. For me, watching the man rage over his failed plans could possibly be downright entertaining.

Other things take precedence over mean-spirited amusements. Promise or no promise to Dryden, I want to see how Millerna is doing. She's didn't chose him for a husband, she didn't marry him out of love, but I know she cares about him. Dryden's bravado about winning her heart isn't all that unfounded.

She seems in good spirits when I find her in her room. A fresh daubing of face powder masks a little puffiness around her eyes. Otherwise, she's coping well. I thought she might be feeling more dejected than this, especially after she tells me that Dryden isn't the only man she's said goodbye to this morning.

Allen, fresh from settling things with Hitomi, sought to do the same with Millerna. Surprisingly, Millerna did the settling for him. She told Allen that Dryden had given her his signet ring back. She did not give Allen a chance to comfort her or say anything on the matter. Then, she sent him on his way with a prayer for Jichia's blessing during the upcoming battle.

She's come so far the girl who would collapse into giddiness talking about Allen.

"It's not that impressive," she insists after I compliment her. "If Allen had interrupted me, I don't think I could have continued. Do you know how easy it would have been to break down in tears and play on his pity?"

When Millerna was still pursuing Allen, she used every last trick she could think of to gain his attention. From base gestures of parading around in tight dresses to abusing his adherence to chivalry, she tried everything. Once, she pretended to swoon during a ball so he could catch her. As I recall, Revius was the one who actually caught her and instead of the sympathy of her beloved, she got a sarcastic history of women and 'the vapors'. That didn't stop her from 'accidentally' tripping over flat carpets when Allen was in arms' reach. Clumsy described her manner in all ways possible.

So, today, when fate gave her a perfect, natural opportunity and she turned it down, she showed how graceful she has become.

Insight appears to have come with grace. "That's all it would have been, wouldn't it? His pity? Duty to his princess?" she asks.

"I don't know, Millerna." I have suspicions, very strong suspicions, but no actual words from Allen to confirm or deny them. During our reconciliation, Allen and I left some things undiscussed. He made no more than a passing reference to Millerna in acknowledging he should have heeded my warnings.

I could share my suspicions with Millerna. I could tell her that I highly doubt he had any kind of serious romantic feelings for her. I could argue he was more ardent about Hitomi Kanzaki and look how those feelings panned out. I could say Allen was infatuated, but the infatuation was not really about Millerna.

But it is not for me to say these things. Millerna and Allen need to talk. Both are acting with the maturity I've long wished they had; let them sort it out for themselves. I shouldn't try to control everything anymore. I shouldn't, even when Millerna asks me to.

"You know him well, though," she says. "He never said anything to you?"

"Millerna," I sigh, "I could tell you what I believe, but I – "

"But I'm dwelling on this too much," she concludes. "I sent him away. I told him I needed to find my own happiness. Yet, here I am, asking you for it."

"These things take time. And under the circumstances…" Namely, her husband has left, the man she's had a crush on for over a year has left, there's a war ready to begin any second now and oh, yes, Father's still in his sick bed. "…I think you're doing fine."

"Thank you, sister. You know," she says, "It's nice to call you that without it being a title."

"It's nice to hear it without it sounding like an insult."

Millerna blushes at the reminder of the various arguments we've had. "Please let me offer a belated apology, one Father isn't forcing me to make, for that…and a few other names I called you."

I remember some of the choicer names. I was surprised she knew what some of them meant. I hope I wasn't the inspiration for her to learn. Switch our places and I might have tried to expand my vocabulary.

"Then let me apologize to you too, Millerna, for my heavy-handed treatment of you."

"No," she says. "I understand why you did what you did. It's what everyone has done for me. You thought keeping me away from Allen would protect me. Father thought spoiling me would make me happy. Dryden thought leaving would give me my freedom. None of you were wrong, really, but it's more right for me to discover those things myself."

Eventually, I'm sure she will. In the meantime, I will be more than willing to help her on her way.

...

The fighting should have already begun. Rather than work myself into a fit worrying about it, I have decided to on focus something else – Father. It's certainly more inspirational. Father's not up and running about by any means, but he has been aware when he's awake and peaceful when asleep. The attending doctor sees no problem in turning his charge over so that I can be alone with him.

We're not alone for long. I'm pleasantly surprised to see Millerna's head poke through the door and ask if it's all right to come in. She had wanted to find Hitomi Kanzaki and talk about her brief return to the Mystic Moon. When she found the girl though, she decided it was best to leave her alone. Most of Hitomi's visions are harbingers of violence, from what I've been told. With the chaos unfolding out there between the armies of Gaea, I doubt she would be in any state of mind to receive company.

"I wish I could do something for her," Millerna says, too loudly. Father moans in his sleep but thankfully settles back into a steady snore. The consistency suggests a heavy sleep but not so deep that Millerna and I should speak above whispers.

Millerna laughs when I explain this. "Remember when I was little and kept sneaking in here to take some of the candies Father kept by his bed?"

"I think if you open the drawer of that table, you would still be able to find a stash."

Taking my suggestion, she slowly slides the drawer open. Sure enough, she produces a tin of sweets. Between giggles, she admonishes our slumbering father for his poor diet. "We should dispose of these for him." She isn't ready to through them away though. "I wonder how old these are? Do candies like this go bad?"

"Good question. I suppose there's a quick way to find out."

Unwilling to experiment on her own, she tosses a candy to me. "On the count of three…"

At four we find out that yes, this particular type of candy does go bad after a period of time. Awfully, dreadfully bad. In a lovely display of decorum, Millerna and I spit our pieces onto to floor and lunge for the decanter of vino sitting on top of the table. Millerna, sitting closer to it, naturally grabs it first, skips pouring it into glasses and takes a quick swig before handing it over to me.

"I think I am forever cured of trying to steal one of these things ever again," Millerna announces.

"And Father thought his tactic of trading your dessert for extra vegetables at dinner every time he caught you was effective."

"No, he just stopped catching me. That's why I thought of the candies when you told me about his snoring. Marlene felt sorry for me after I had to eat an especially large plate of benta roots so she took me aside and explained to me how I could tell how deeply Father was sleeping by listening to his snores. From then on, I made all my candy raids at night."

"I don't suppose she told you I was the one who devised that system?"

"Really? I thought maybe she passed it on to you. Marlene could be pretty cunning when she wanted to be."

"Only when she thought she had to be."

Millerna weighs the statement while pouring us proper glasses of vino. "That's good in a princess, though, isn't it? She should be able to make things go her or her husband's way."

"Been thinking about the qualities of a good ruler, have we?"

"I had been," she confesses. "Up until this morning, I thought I might have to become one soon. Even with Father recovering as well as he has, he's not in any condition to run a country at war. But with Dryden gone…"

She won't let herself fall into melancholia. She sips her vino and continues, "But even with Dryden gone, I'm still a princess and if I want to follow through with my plans, I'm going to have to learn how to be a ruler who gets things done."

"You've made plans already?"

"These are the same ones I told you about. I'll finish my medical studies and then I'll use that knowledge to set up facilities to train other doctors." She adds sadly, "Something tells me they'll be needed."

The gods willing, the war won't last that long, but even in peacetime, a knowledgeable doctor is a boon to his community. "It's a noble goal. Just be sure when you approach the council for funding, that you tell them how they can make a profit off of it."

"I should have asked Dryden for advice before he left. He knows all about profit," she says. "But then, I was expecting him to be around to order everyone on the council to do what I say."

"If you can stomach it, ask Meiden. I'm sure he'll be eager to curry your favor." That man would do anything to help Dryden back on the throne. He did not handle the news of his son's latest journey very well. There was a great deal of shouting, at the absent Dryden for being so foolish, at his wife for allowing their son to turn out the way he did and at the world in general. He did not shout at me. I sidled out of the Fassa quarters before he could blame the messenger.

"That seems a little manipulative to me," Millerna says. "Wouldn't it be easier to ask my sister for help?" She winks in case I missed her meaning.

I hadn't even thought of that. Father only removed me from the council because he felt threatened by Zaibach. We'll be rid of that threat once the war is over. There's nothing stopping me from petitioning to reclaim my seat, aside from the objections of the councilmen whose politics clash with mine. Am I ready to pick up that fight again? The council took up so much of my time and energy and I complained about it endlessly, but I know I did good things on it. At minimum, I was a different perspective. I was someone whose position left them with nothing more to gain and no motive to vote for anything other than what I thought was best.

"Don't you want to be on the council again?" Millerna prods. "I've told you my plans. Will you tell me yours?"

"Would that I knew what they were." I can feel them forming, though. Father is recovering but will he be fit to face the stress of ruling a country by war's end? From a cold, objective view, a country in the midst of reconstruction should have a vibrant, vigorous leader, not someone whose health mirrors the damage we're trying to undo. Who knows when Dryden will make good on his promise and return? I know I won't be happy letting his father run roughshod over the council until then.

And, from that same objective view, a princess rolling up her sleeves and wading into the thick of the business of rebuilding her country would make a lovely symbol.

"You're thinking about it," Millerna states, showing off newfound sisterly intuition.

"It never hurts to consider all your options," I answer slyly.

She doesn't press any further. She's made up her mind that I've made up my mind. We content ourselves with our glasses of vino while the rumbles from Father settle into even breathing. He'll be awake soon. Millerna goes to his side and for a second, I see her silhouetted against the window in the grey-blue of a rainy afternoon and then the skyline burns white.

We're both at the window to watch the light dissipate over the mountains. From up here on the third floor of the palace I can see every head in the courtyard turned towards the faded glow, mouths agape. It's not difficult to tell where the light came from. Even without having seen Allen's map, I know exactly what lies in that direction.

In council meetings, I heard rumors and theories about weapons that would render guymelefs and our notions of conventional warfare obsolete. Our scientists gave presentations on devices that could alter the way Energists react but it never went beyond sketches and equations. Too dangerous, too horrible, they said. Father agreed with them.

Wondering what could have generated a light of such intensity that it reached all the way from the battlefield to Palas, I have a sickening feeling others did not come to Father's conclusion.

...

We had feared a long, brutal war. How odd it is then, that it's over in literally a flash. That ungodly light was an Energist bomb, dropped by Basram without the knowledge or consent of Asturia or any of its other allies. As shocked as those armies were by its use, they were able to recover and fight. Zaibach was not. The troops that were left tried to take their revenge, but too many had been devoured by that light to put up an effective defense against our assault. We won, quickly and cleanly, but not without misgivings.

Basram's leaders argued that they saved countless lives. We were beyond peaceful solutions, everyone on the battlefield was either going to kill or be killed. The bomb ensured that the allies did the former and Zaibach did the latter. They argued that it was more merciful too. Better to die instantly, then to bleed to death amongst the corpses of your fellow soldiers. I can see their point, to an extent. Beyond that, there's nothing but an incredible uneasiness about a device that can end thousands of lives in a few seconds and the people who would use it. Asturia's going to be keeping an extremely close eye on Basram from now on. I doubt we'll be the only country to do so.

Otherwise, morale is high. The majority of our soldiers are already home. Only a few suffered casualties. That would usually explain the high spirits but from the snippets I've overheard there is something larger at work. This battle was marked by more than the use of the Energist bomb. Another light, this one seen emanating from Zaibach, overtook the battlefield not too long after the bomb was dropped. At first, the fighting intensified. Then, it stopped. The rest of the story sounds like a fairy tale. A white dragon appeared in the sky. The sky became bright. And as the dragon flew towards Zaibach, it fell to the earth and became an angel. Feathers spiraled down in its wake, causing all who saw it to sheath their weapons and abandon the fight.

There is a more rational explanation, though it too, has its fair share of mystery. Allen relayed it to me in a quickly written message. Van Fanel did find Dilandau first. The fight Allen feared had taken place, with two interruptions – the reappearance of one girl and the call of another one's voice. The first stopped Allen. Fanel heeded the second. Somehow, without having to endure the mechanizations of Zaibach's sorcerers again, Celena came back on her own. Somehow, Hitomi Kanzaki finally gave Van Fanel the peace he needed.

Somehow, she also got to Zaibach and somehow, Fanel knew where to find her. The dragon everyone saw was Fanel's guymelef, Escaflowne, flying to the heart of Zaibach to bring her back. The angel was Fanel himself. I have no logical explanation for why soldiers on both sides spontaneously and unanimously decided to disarm. Inspired by the sight above or by something deep within, they just did. Perhaps it is possible for people to come to their senses as a collective.

From what Hitomi told us, the fight had become moot by that point anyway. Zaibach's emperor was already dead, struck down by his former Strategos. It was surprising to learn Hitomi did not go to Zaibach alone. Folken Fanel went with her to put a stop to the grand designs he had once believed in. He was successful, but at a price. The same sword stroke that ended Dornkirk's life took his as well. When Folken Fanel first came to Palas, making demands of Father, I would have found it sweetly ironic to know he would be killed by having a shard of his sword break off and be reflected back at him, but when hearing Hitomi tell it, it sounded like a tragic waste.

The younger Fanel didn't speak while Hitomi told the story. He didn't have to say a word. Before, he would look away in scorn when his brother was mentioned, but this time, he held his gaze on Hitomi, a look of pride in his eyes as his brother's final redemption was recounted. He did request the use of a leviship so that he could go back to Zaibach and properly transport Folken's body home to Fanelia. One was quickly given to him. He should be leaving shortly, as soon as Millerna is through giving her goodbyes to Hitomi and Merle.

Allen's leviship, the Crusade, won't be making any long trips without some extensive repairs. It limped back into port late at night, though even in pristine condition, the ship would still have come in under cover of night. The young woman on board needed to be taken home and taken out of a Zaibach uniform with the utmost discretion.

From a personal standpoint, I didn't suffer any losses at all. Revius' troop saw heavy combat but it was all one-on-one swordplay, the sort of thing he can do in his sleep. His most grievous wound is an unsightly notch on his favorite sword. His whines as if he lost a limb, though it's not so atrocious as to prevent him from telling everyone it was created while he was blocking three Zaibach soldiers at the same time. Once, he put the number at four. Seclas, also in that troop, isn't as outspoken as Revius, but if you ask him about the new scar on his cheek, he will be sure to give you a full account. He thinks it makes him more interesting. Revius has assured him that no, he's just as boring as he always was.

There's one man who's garnered a considerable amount of interest for his actions during the battle, enough so that the handmaidens will have to wait in line to claim him as their champion. Basram hadn't yet dropped the Energist bomb when Alucier's troop, stationed on the western edge just behind the front, was ambushed by a Zaibach division. The enemy had formed on third front, apparently counting on dividing our troops with a pincer movement. They did not count on a Caeli who, though he can't pilot a guymelef himself, is still damned adept at commanding those who can. On the ground, he taught both sides to respect the swordsmanship of a Knight of Heaven. It could have been disastrous for us if Zaibach had broken through. Because of Alucier, that was never a possibility.

He's not bragging like his roommate, but Alucier did make sure Revius got a good look at his clearly un-notched sword. In response, Revius went on about how Alucier's actions were especially amazing considering he had done nothing for over six years but sit on his butt babysitting a princess. Alucier countered that spending time with me was exactly how he learned to fight so fiercely. Both brave heroes became cowed very quickly when I asked them why they were laughing so hard over the comment.

It's surreal, to be back to normal so soon. How easily the war could have gone another way. No one, I doubt even Hitomi Kanzaki, would have predicted things unfolding as they did. One could speculate forever on what would have happened if someone had done this or been there and countless other paths that fortuitously went unexplored.

Someone might do that. Actually, many people will definitely analyze today's events down to the buttons on the uniforms and then write them down in enough books to fill the palace library so they can be read and debated and referred to by future generations facing similar circumstances. But for now, I have no interest in that. Jichia, luck, Mystic Moon girls – whatever got us through this did its job and I am content just to be thankful.

...

This wouldn't be Asturia if we didn't mark the end of the war with a massive gala. In less than two weeks, the palace staff has managed to put together an ostentatious celebration. Decorations start in the grand ballroom. They spread out through the palace and into the main courtyard. It officially begins this evening at nightfall. Who knows how long it will last, though with the preparations being made, it will easily be longer than the war itself. The kitchens have been working non-stop the past two days; we'll have enough food to last until winter. We won't be short of entertainment either. It's as if anyone who has ever held an instrument has been gathered up to supplement the regular royal orchestra. It takes a very large band to play over a very large crowd and somehow, they've got to make it so that the music reaches the courtyard. Their seats take up the entire back of the grand ballroom.

They're rehearsing the different anthems of our allies now. The opening of tonight's festivities will be small parades of military personal from each country. Once the soldiers have lined up in a symbolic ring around the room, the rulers will come out. Lots of congratulatory speeches will be made. Lots of gods will be praised and thanked. Lots of medals and honors will be handed out to show how well our soldiers performed.

Lots of people will stand around in boredom and wonder when the eating, drinking and dancing can begin.

I shouldn't be so cynical. Such a swift victory should be celebrated. Our soldiers do need to be recognized for their service. But I believe most of those soldiers would like to skip the ceremony and go right into the party.

That's the impression I'm getting from our Knights Caeli. The eleven of them – the twelfth having been granted permission to stay at home with his newly returned sister until the events actually start – are talking more than practicing. Granted, they've all been in the Order long enough to have attended many, many of these things, but they need to coordinate with others who aren't used to Asturian pomp.

In theory, that's why Millerna and I are here helping with the finishing touches. Millerna's quite good with this. She has a good eye for how to hang a banner just so or how to set out food in the most appealing manner. She's happy to help with the setup of a giant, multi-layered cake that, when fully assembled, will resemble a relief map of Gaea.

With my more extensive diplomatic experience, I'm supposed to be reviewing who's going to be sitting where as to avoid any conflicts. The last thing we want tonight is someone getting offended because they were stationed too close to the doors. I know Egzardians think the one in the highest position of honor is the guy closest to the food, but Cesarians like making a show of having their food brought to them. That makes seating arrangements for those two easy. Basram's getting a corner spot. We invited them out of courtesy and they accepted out of courtesy but everyone is still nervous around them and vice versa. Fanelia and Freid declined their invitations. They will have their celebrations when they have finished rebuilding.

As the host country, we Asturians will be in front of the orchestra so everyone has to pay attention to us, a political advantage but a personal disadvantage. Father's doctors have given him one more week before he can make public appearances. Without Father beside him, Meiden's presence might draw attention to Dryden's absence. That leaves Millerna and me front and center of this gala. That means no slipping out after putting in a few hours. It's a good thing I got plenty of sleep last night.

A noticeably off-key rendition of 'Blessed Are Those under Jichia's Glory' stops everyone is their tracks. The conductor makes a loud, nervous apology and prompts the orchestra to do better this time with a furious wave of his baton.

Revius, who – along with Alucier – used the distraction to wander away from their fellow knights, laughs. "What's he going to do? Beat them to death with that little stick if they hit a wrong note?"

"I think he'll pass out of exhaustion soon if he tries to do that," Alucier remarks. "They keep going like that and Jichia will have to appear and tell them to stop worshipping him."

"If we prayed, do you think he'll get here faster?"

"They're doing the best they can," I chide the two of them. "That seems to be more than the two of you can say. Aren't you supposed to be rehearsing for this evening's little parade?"

"I guess we should," says Revius. "It would be a shame if I forgot how to walk in a straight line."

"We have to turn corners too. Don't forget how tricky that is," Alucier says.

"Oh, so that's what all you Caeli were talking so intently about," I say. "You were complaining about having to perform tonight. I sympathize, but I'm not taking it out on some poor musicians."

"Yeah. Because we're standing here and you're taking it out on us," Alucier says.

Revius agrees whole-heartedly with him. "Besides, that's not even what we were talking about. And since you're being mean, we're not going to tell what we actually were talking about."

"And deprive me of more stories of famous swordfights? Or were these stories about the barmaids at Tuvello's? But then I doubt Lord Ramkin would allow you to gossip about that. So it was more swordfights."

They shake their heads no. "Funny you should mention Lord Ramkin and gossip in the same sentence though," Revius offers as a clue.

I'm still working on the puzzle of the seating chart. I don't need any more games. "Out with it."

"Yes, your majesty," Revius says. "I can't say anything outright as nothing has been decided on yet, but apparently a certain wife, oh, we'll call her Lady Sibyl, is pressuring a certain husband to retire from his post. Said post is quite prestigious and with a limited number of men eligible to be posted to it, much speculation is going about."

"I am utterly perplexed by your riddles, Revius. So when is Lord Ramkin going to retire?"

"Don't know," Alucier says. "He hasn't said. I think it'll be soon or else he wouldn't have gone on about how he thinks every one of us could make a great commander for the Caeli. We all nodded our heads and agreed with him while secretly coming up with reasons why everyone else would suck. He had to know retiring would create a power struggle. I don't think he would want it to stretch out too long."

"Why, Alucier," says Revius, dripping more sugar than what was used to bake the map-cake, "I never once thought that! I mean, it does make sense for someone to go from captain of the guard to commander of the Caeli but how much you suck never came into that assessment."

I love Revius, really I do, but the thought of him being in charge of an organization as steeped in honor and tradition as the Knights Caeli is, well…disturbing. I can't imagine the redesign of the uniform he would commission. It would not have pink cravats and flowing lines. It would definitely have pants that were easier to get off than the current overalls.

"It's pointless to argue," Alucier says. "Everybody knows it's up to the king, or should the king be indisposed, his immediate heir, to decide. Isn't that correct, Eries, fair princess I've been guarding with my life for lo these many years?"

Alucier…that, I could imagine. His recent heroics have certainly put him into the limelight. I'm not about to vocalize either conclusion though. They're just playing now. Endorsing one over the other would be too serious. I'm sure they expect me to say something though -- probably something droll, maybe something supportive, possibly a declaration that they both 'suck'.

Fortunately, I'm rescued. Like a knight in scuffed armor, Gaddes appears to give me an excuse to extricate myself from the bickering. He sticks out like a sore thumb amongst the fancy regalia of the other military men present in his worn quasi-uniform but looks as if he hardly cares. If anything, he's amused by the spectacle being put on here.

"Your highness," he addresses me. "Allen sent me into town to pick up some things for the estate. He wanted me to stop by and see about what time he should report for duty."

I look around. Millerna, having coated three walls with banners and such, has been drawn away from the cake to cover the fourth. It pulls her from some crisis involving the icing on the mountains. Jichia still hasn't blessed the orchestra. The word 'suck' was just used as a noun, verb and adjective in a sentence uttered by Revius.

"Why don't I come with you, Gaddes, and tell him in person?"

...

I haven't yet had the opportunity to visit with Allen and Celena since her return. Foreign diplomats arriving, the armies they represent going home – caught between greetings and farewells and wheedling my way into the council meetings on the treaties we're drafting, Palas has been nearly impossible to escape. Allen's been similarly busy. We've only corresponded through brief letters exchanged every day or so and his have read like harried to-do lists. He's not only caring for his sister but endeavoring to return her home to the grandeur it had when she last lived in it.

Formerly, the house staff numbered four. Now, the Schezar payroll has swelled to nearly ten times that size. That's smaller than the staffs of your higher class Asturian families but still a handful to manage for a man who's readapting to his role of brother and protector. And a strong sense of duty towards the women he cares for isn't among the things that have changed about Allen recently.

Gaddes drives the carriage through repaired gates and over the repaved lane to the house proper. Crews are working on the front, tearing down wood and glass to make way for a grand window more in line with modern Asturian aesthetics. More than one worker is recognizable as a crewmember of the Crusade. Gaddes leaves me to join them, explaining that until the Crusade is up and running, it was either keep working for the boss this way or try fitting in with the rest of the Asturian army. It was an easy choice for them.

Allen's in the garden at the back of the house and as I go to meet him, I notice the landscaping, unlike the house, it almost complete. Of course, getting all the flower beds in would be a priority. However, I do not encounter a peaceful, pastoral scene when I find Allen. All the elements are there – the gazebo with the intricate woodwork ringed by careful arrangements of bright flowers, a clear pond reflecting a crystal blue sky above – but the people in the picture are ruining the effect. Most pastorals don't show a frustrated young man wringing out his soaked shirt while his mischievous sister kneels by the pond splashing more water on him to thwart the effort.

"Do I want to know?" I ask.

"Allen wanted to go in because he thought it might be too hot out for me," Celena says, as if this explains everything. Already, I can see the spirit in her that was missing on that day at the cemetery.

Allen fills in the rest of the story. "Celena said she was fine but if I was hot, perhaps I could use some water."

"It's not my fault the gardeners left that pail of water sitting there."

"And that pail of water magically lifted itself off the ground and emptied its contents over Allen," I conclude.

"I might have had something to do with that part." She smiles innocently to stifle any retribution that might be headed her way for her small involvement in the deed.

Allen's deflects the tactic better than I thought he would. "Since you're having so much fun with water, why don't you help Aelia out with the laundry?"

I assumed he meant this as a punishment, but Celena gratefully accepts the chore. She literally skips into the house.

"She enjoys doing the laundry?" I ask Allen.

"She enjoys spending time with Aelia," he says, "because Aelia spoils her rotten. She was so thrilled to see her again she's spent all her spare time making sure Celena has everything she could possibly want."

That's probably not a good long term strategy, but until Celena's settled in, I think she's earned some spoiling. "If it makes her happy and teaches her some household skills, I don't see the harm in it."

"Actually," he says sheepishly, "Celena spends most of the time playing with the soap."

"Playing with soap and water – she must keep very clean at least."

Allen smiles at my joke but it's out of good manners more than amusement. "She's so energetic," he explains. "Always talking or moving or both at the same time, I can barely keep up with her."

"I'm sure you make every effort." Taking a second look at his soaked shirt, I add, "Though it seems sometimes she pulls ahead of you."

"I think this was her way of saying I'm being overprotective. She's just trying to establish boundaries."

I've heard those sentiments before – not from Allen and with more grandiose wording – but they are definitely familiar. "That sounds like something out of those psychology books I used to read."

"It is," he admits. "You gave a couple of them to me to 'broaden my mind', remember?"

"I didn't think you had kept them."

"You kept the gift I gave to you," he says, touching his ear indicate the golden earcuffs I'm wearing.

He has me there. "I had gotten used to them. People would talk if I suddenly stopped wearing them."

"And I know how deeply you take to heart what others say of you."

He has me yet again. This is another change; I was used to getting the better of him in these little exchanges. "Well, I guess it was for the best that you did hang on to those books."

"I would be even better if I understood everything they're talking about. Celena seems happy and carefree but you saw her, she doesn't really seem like a fifteen-year-old girl. She told me that she had some hazy memories of what happened after she disappeared but she still doesn't know what she was doing in the middle of a battlefield, in a guymelef and wearing a uniform. And I don't know what to tell her."

"I doubt any textbook could cover her situation," I say bitterly. "What Zaibach did to her was unfathomably cruel, but hopefully unique. I don't know how much help I can be to you even having read all those books."

"What about the people who wrote them?"

He might be on to something there. I recall the names of the books' authors and one stands out – by the volume of books with his name on them and the fact he's from Egzardia. Few friends could be in higher places there than Marqesita. Getting the man here to examine Celena shouldn't be difficult at all. "I actually have someone in mind. Give me a few days and I'll see what I can do for you."

"Thank you," he says as he takes my hand. "I knew I could count on you."

"Celena deserves to have peace of mind, as do you." I'm hesitant to press this issue but I'm sure it weighs heavily on Allen too. "I think it's probably for the best that she be under some kind of professional care. If she should have any of Dilandau's memories or if – "

"I know. I've thought about that. I believe Dilandau's gone for good. I can't explain it, that's just the feeling I had standing there holding her and watching Van fly off to be with Hitomi. All grudges were forgiven. I had my sister back. She's wasn't going to leave me again."

"But – ?"

"But I do worry about her remembering being turned into him or having some of his memories. I don't believe that will happen, but I can't deny the possibility."

It's just a touch of Allen's old pessimistic brooding, but it's a prudent touch. There's so much we don't know about the procedure that was done to Celena or the life she led as Dilandau. Honestly, I wouldn't be comfortable hearing too much about it. How would a girl as innocent as Celena respond to reliving it? "The doctor I'm thinking of is highly accomplished. If Celena has any troubles, he should be able to help her. If she doesn't, it doesn't hurt to be prepared."

"No, it doesn't. If something does happen, I'll take care of it. We'll get through it. Celena must be so strong to have survived what was done to her. I know I've gotten stronger these past months. And…" He squeezes my hand. "I have a strong friend."

"Yes, you do," I say, squeezing back. "But be sure not to mess it up this time."

He looks at me, that magnetic glimmer shining in his eyes that's often been the last thing a woman sees before her heart jumps into her throat. It's a reflex of his. Some people talk with their hands without realizing it. Allen flirts with his eyes. Having seen it enough and knowing how little it actually means, I thought myself inured to its charm.

"I wouldn't dream of it. I will be nothing but the perfect gentleman and friend from now on," he pledges.

I'd never hold him to it. "I don't think perfection is something to be expected from either of us."

"No, I suppose not," he agrees. "It's not really fair to expect someone to be perfect, to them or to you. I've made that mistake too many times."

"We've both made mistakes. We'll both continue to make mistakes."

"But we won't deny them."

"Or walk away from them."

Through the silence in the garden, Aelia's voice rises in alarm. "No, Lady Celena! You shouldn't put that much soap in!" A young girl's voice follows, cheerfully asking Aelia if she's not even a little curious to see what would happen if she did, in fact, put that much soap in.

"Speaking of mistakes…" Allen says.

"I guess you had better retrieve your sister before she can do any permanent damage."

"You'll come with me, of course," he says. "I seem to remember you promising to look after Celena."

I could argue semantics and point out I only agreed to look after her in Allen's absence. I'd rather honor the spirit of the promise. "Yes, I'll come with you. Let it be said I will not be deterred by soapy water."

"There might be worse things in store," he says.

There might be. Today, we face some girlish over-exuberance. Tomorrow could bring anything from old nightmares to further silliness to nothing at all. Whichever it is, it doesn't matter. "We'll deal with them. Whatever happens with Celena or anything else, we'll deal with it. I'll be here for you as long as you need me."

"And I for you, or as long as you want me."

"Hmm, want. Now that's different," I tease, "I don't know how long that will be."

"I do," he says resolutely.

"Always…"

...

Author's Notes: Woot! It's finally over! Thanks to all my reviewers for sticking with me during the long, long ride. In order of review:

Mistress Noin, Kenta Divina, Ron and his Sakura, Shuro, Lillian Dashwood, Lady of the Ink, Serena B, satar, OpalWings, Meghanna Starsong, Rad, Orestes, Wintermute, Sherlgirl aka LongwindedGirl aka eriesalia (Did I miss any aliases? ), Mary-chan, Leila Hime, Didodikali, mary blue, Stelmarta, Dark Flame, Corri, Girliegirl, Miraba, Nakkie, Fae, Shadowkeepre, Seiii, Faraday, Kriyn Drake, sarah, Shimizu Hitomi and Phyllis Nodrey (Who has written a poem inspired by 'Girl' and 'Always' called 'For Eries'. Check it out)

You have been more loyal, more patient and more kind than I had any right to expect. Pat yourselves on the back, because y'all rock.

Next up: Um, something. There will be a third part to this. I've put too much into it to drop it now. I just don't know when it will start. Yeah, yeah, I know I already made you wait eight months for a single chapter but I've put off so many plot bunnies while working on this, I'd like to take some time to work through a couple of them. Don't despair Alucier Fan Clubbers. There won't be an alternate ending to this story but there might be a one-shot in the offing. ::whistles innocently::


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